A/N: You all just continue to blow me away with how wonderful you all are! I knew you could do it. We made it to 1200 reviews, my lovelies! Thank you so much! Especially to OfSeashellsandStars, who left the magical review this time around! My Reviewers really are the best.

And now you will all see why I was so excited to share this one! XD

Enjoy the Celebratory Early Chapter!

Chapter 37

Dresden, Germany

Spring 2016

It was about as nondescript a location as they came. Honestly? Had Nadine not led them in through the back of the supposedly abandoned storefront, Steve never would've pegged it for anything but. From the outside, the two-story building looked like it hadn't been entered much less had a resident in years.

But of course, that was the intent.

Inside was another matter.

What looked like boarded and newspapered windows from the outside were actually meticulously blacked out from the inside, the customer entrance completely blocked and secured, making it quite clear that the building's purpose no longer lay in retail. While there was a thin coating of dust on most surfaces, it was obviously well upkept, with lights blinking immediately to life when Nadine flicked the breaker in the back room once she'd mollified her security system with the appropriate iris-scan and passcode.

Upstairs was no different. The same plain but clean functional tiles as the store downstairs covered the floors from one end of the common area into the small kitchenette. And presumably, back through a narrow hallway into what had once been a private office and additional storage, the space now likely redone to include at least one bedroom, a washroom and a workroom of sorts, if he knew Nadine.

Sure enough, as he, Sam and Bucky had filed in, she had been gesturing around and informing them of the general layout—confirming Steve's suspicions—even as she deposited her rifle case and duffle on the counter in the kitchenette.

"Make yourselves at home," she'd finished with a trace of a wry smile. Steve had huffed out a small laugh as Sam at once deposited his gear next to one of the pair of couches in the common area, proceeding to pace the perimeter of the room, eying the blacked out windows with a mix of curiosity and assessment. Similarly, Bucky hadn't moved from his position near the door until he'd passed a critical look around the entire space. Steve bit back a sigh, hating that such precautions had become such a crucial part of their lives.

Especially Bucky's. Even as he stepped into the room, the space evidently passing muster, the tension never quite left his frame, his metal hand unconsciously flexing as he edged toward the pair of couches.

God, the kind of life he must have been living. It left a physical ache in Steve's chest just imagining what Bucky must have been through in the last two years alone. There was no forgetting the near squalor of the defunct safehouse they had tracked him to, the air of the place musty and stale, the neglect permeating the dark room seeming to still cling to Steve's skin even hours later at the mere memory. And that paled in comparison to the horrors Steve suspected his best friend had been subjected to during his time under HYDRA's control.

Then to even contemplate what he had endured since falling off that godforsaken train all those decades before?

Even back in DC when Steve had made the decision to go after Bucky, he hadn't been naive enough to think that, underneath the programming of the Winter Soldier, the Bucky he'd known would just be waiting to be freed. He'd clung to the hope that some of his best friend had survived—he'd known, knowing how strong Bucky was that he was still in there somewhere—but he'd held no illusions that he would escape HYDRA's hold on his mind unscathed. He knew that the Bucky he'd been searching for, that he was fighting to save, would be different from the Bucky he'd failed to save in Austria.

No one could experience the torments, the crimes, that Bucky undoubtedly had seen—had been forced to commit—unchanged, without psychological scars that would never fade.

Natasha hadn't. Nadine certainly hadn't. The two sisters spies were similarly haunted by their pasts, and Steve suspected that, in many ways, they had endured many of the same horrors that Bucky had.

Horrors that were still written clearly in every wary, weary, haunted line of Bucky's body and the guarded, shadowed cast to his eyes as he subtly watched the movements of the room's other three occupants from his place in the centre of the couch facing the door. Steve bit back a sigh.

It honestly hurt that he had to admit Bucky actually looked better than the last time he'd seen him; nearly two years ago, now, back in DC. More himself. Though still long, his hair wasn't quite the tangled, careless mess it had been, and while still tired and wary, there was a vibrancy to him that, though still subdued, had been absent before. Like the spark that was Bucky, dimmed as it had been by what had been done to him, had returned in the days since DC. A liveliness and awareness he'd noticed back in Bucharest despite Bucky's act to the contrary that had been missing when Steve had gone up against the Winter Soldier in Berlin. Because there was a distinct difference. That was undeniable. And once Bucky had regained consciousness in the abandoned factory? He had inarguably been himself again, the almost indefinable quality that left Steve simply knowing the man before him was his friend, memories or not, having reasserted itself over his HYDRA programming.

It was oddly reassuring.

And to see glimpses of the man Steve remembered surface from beneath the grim, damaged former agent Bucky had become in the hours since, despite the damage HYDRA had caused?

It truly gave Steve hope that the Bucky he'd known wasn't lost forever.

His train of thought was interrupted as Bucky's mild look of disquiet furrowed into a puzzled frown. Following his friend's gaze, Steve quickly found himself wearing a matching frown.

Nadine had reappeared from the narrow hall separating the common area from the back rooms of her bolthole to lay a pale green polyester jacket on the kitchen counter next to her gear. She was currently surveying the three of them—him, Bucky and Sam—with a distantly calculating gaze as she knelt on one knee over a displaced tile on the floor, having apparently stopped in the midst of her raid of the safe hidden beneath it if the modest bundle of cash in her hand was anything to go by.

She only paused in whatever it was she was considering when she realized all three men were staring at her with varying expressions of confusion and curiosity. She bit back a sigh, a patently patient expression settling over her features.

"Dinner," she explained, growing faintly exasperated when the looks persisted, even if her eyes seemed to glint fondly for a moment, "I'm figuring out how much take-away to get." When the looks didn't relent, she huffed, resuming her raid of the safe's contents. "Honestly. I've been listening to stomachs rumbling for the last hour, boys. Not to mention I'm hungry. And with what we're going up against? I'd rather be on the top of my game. And that involves food," she waved off as she set the cash and what was likely a burner cell—perhaps even a back-up to her usual phone, Steve mused absently, given how prepared she tended to be—that she'd obviously stashed in the safe down next to her knee before closing the safe up and replacing the tile. It fit back seamlessly. Had Steve not known it was there? He'd never have known. "So I'm going to go get us some," she finished, her tone brooking no argument.

Though she didn't see it, Steve couldn't say he'd be surprised if she could all but feel the concerned glances being exchanged between him, Sam and Bucky as she stood.

"You sure that's a good idea, Nadine?" Steve asked, fully aware how concerned he sounded even as he automatically fell back onto the pragmatic tone Nat and Nina had once dubbed his 'Captain' voice. But before he could continue, Nadine broke in, shooting him a knowing look, her pale eyes glinting fondly far more noticeably this time. He fought back the urge to swallow thickly at the look.

"Well, we don't really have too many other options," she pointed out matter-of-factly as she slipped off her dark leather jacket, laying it carefully on the counter next to the much cheaper looking green one. He nearly frowned at the hesitant way her hand lingered on it, but the observation fell by the wayside as she expanded on her reasoning. "Don't forget, I've seen you and Sam pack it away and I imagine Barnes here has similar caloric needs. Food is definitely a necessity now that we're temporarily secure and you can't argue that. And there isn't any here. Which means someone has to go, and since—even if you weren't immediately recognized as Captain America or Barnes as the Winter Soldier—not one of you are exactly unassuming," she concluded with a wryly raised brow. Steve swallowed back a sigh and an inopportune chuckle, unable to find a fault in her logic as she'd laid it out.

"Fair enough; you do have a point," he admitted, not that it quite managed put his concern at ease, "but Nadine, it's just as risky for you as Buck and me. You're just as wanted as me and Bucky, and your picture's probably out there too, now." Sympathy burned in his gut at the way her features threatened to turn impassive at the reminder, her fingers pausing in their tapping over the burner phone's screen, but he pressed on. It was reality, after all, and he knew she was very much aware of it. "There's still Sam—"

"I am a little less high-profile and a bit more inconspicuous," the former paratrooper cut in helpfully, half-begrudgingly—as if he knew it was futile but felt bound to try anyway—and half with genuine concern. Nadine raised a skeptical brow, holding up the burner as her call connected.

A short conversation in German and a couple bewildered and lost expressions—save from Bucky—later, Nadine disconnected the call with a smirk. Steve fought back the urge to groan; he knew precisely what she had sought to prove. Well? She proved it, alright. What little German he knew from during the War had been of next to no help.

"And Sam doesn't know German," she said, confirming his conclusion, "in Berlin, that would've been fine, as I bet you figured out when getting your hands on that burner you guys have been using. But here? Not exactly inconspicuous in this neighbourhood," she pointed out wryly as she tugged on and zipped up the green jacket she had retrieved a few minutes before and gathering her pale hair up in a messy bun reminiscent of the ones Nina often favoured. Steve frowned, his eyes widening of their own volition as he noticed the logo. Was that for…for a dinner delivery service?

Then, carefully arranging her expression into an exasperated and faintly dismissive one more suited to a girl Nina's age, Nadine rolled her eyes, no doubt taking a great deal of internal amusement at the undeniably startled looks on her companions' faces. "And what's more inconspicuous than a college student working a delivery job picking up loads of take-away?"

Sam blinked, shaking his head in astonishment. "Okay, that's impressive. Kinda creepy, but impressive." Steve could only nod in agreement, similarly astonished and impressed nearly to speechlessness. Behind them, Bucky actually huffed in amusement. Satisfied she'd made her case, Nadine allowed her more natural expression to surface, smirking as she tucked the phone and cash into the delivery service jacket.

"Years around teenagers and a lifetime of training to be one of the best covert operatives in the world does have its benefits," she quipped dryly, hand flicking in a dismissive gesture, "as does having an Enhancement that slows my natural aging process enough that I can even think about pulling it off."

"Silver linings," Steve said with his own wry grin. Nadine grinned wickedly back.

"Something like that."

"And it actually works?" Sam asked, still sounding vaguely incredulous. Nadine's expression grew cruelly satisfied.

"It did in '08. The Cops that questioned me never even gave me a second look. They just thought I was a scared kid who happened upon the body and not the one who pulled off the hit. I mean, how could a wide-eyed schoolgirl subdue and kill a very obviously former special-forces operative," she said, adopting the very same wide-eyed, overwhelmed expression and body language that had undoubtedly had the officers looking right past her. He knew her and knew it was an act and yet Steve was still nearly convinced by it; she looked, at most, a couple years older than Nina the way she was acting in that moment. It was quite unsettling. Only for her nose to wrinkle and the act to break, much to his relief. "Of course, I can't pull off high school anymore," she dismissed, sounding almost annoyed at the fact, "but the principle's the same."

Sam swallowed thickly. "Well, damn," he muttered. Steve was rather inclined to agree, huffing out an incredulous chuckle of his own.

"Remember what I said about hiding in plain sight?" They all turned to Bucky, whose expression, though still distantly amused, had once more turned grim. He nodded toward Nadine, a trace of admiration nevertheless visible on his face, "that's what I was talking about." At once Steve sobered, the earlier conversations about the other Winter Soldiers they were intending to stop coming once more to mind. Nadine's expression similarly sobered as she met Bucky's eye, a measure of understanding passing between them. After a moment she looked back to Steve.

"All the more reason to take advantage of the down time," she said pointedly. She wasn't asking for permission. Steve sighed, shaking his head as, despite himself, a small smile began to spread across his face. Her own lips curling, Nadine brushed a hand against his arm as she passed on the way to the stairs.

Only to turn back to him as he reached out, his fingers closing lightly around her wrist. Her determined features softened as he looked down at her, unconsciously leaning into his touch as his hand skimmed up her arm.

"Be careful," he said softly. Earnestly. The corner of her lip tugged, the expression tender. His heart thumped unevenly.

"Always," she replied, her fingertips ghosting against his side.

It took a great deal of effort not to pull her into his arms right then and there, audience be damned…and judging by the way her cheeks began to pink, her breath hitching ever so slightly?

"Wait, wait. What are we supposed to do while we wait? Just sit here?"

Steve was very nearly tempted to scowl at Sam for the—admittedly timely—interruption. Biting back a frustrated sigh, Steve forced himself to step back. Much as he might hate to admit it, now wasn't exactly the best time to consider exploring just how things had shifted between him and Nadine since her unexpected but most decidedly welcome kiss back under the overpass.

Shooting Sam an exasperated look of her own, Nadine thought for a moment before circling back to the desk in the far corner of the former break room and retrieving a small package from the left drawer. With a guileless expression, she tossed it to Sam, unable to help the wicked glint that appeared in her eyes.

Sam shot her a highly unimpressed glare as he looked up from the deck of cards he'd caught. She shrugged.

"I'm sure you can think of something," she quipped blandly. "Go Fish, maybe?" Next to the door to the stairs, Steve's hand had risen to his mouth, poorly concealing his attempt not to laugh at Sam's incredulous expression. Sam narrowed his eyes at the Captain.

Smirking, obviously pleased with herself, Nadine took her leave, all but gliding past Steve and down the stairs.

But not before she paused to lay a quick kiss on Steve's cheek.

And in a blink she was gone, her cheeks faintly pink as she disappeared.

Leaving Steve standing, faintly stunned, in her wake. As the muffled sound of the door downstairs closing behind her made its way upstairs, he wasn't quite able to suppress his pleased smile. Or the way his pulse was suddenly thudding happily once more.

At least until he turned back to see Sam and Bucky both grinning shrewdly at him, Sam looking almost smug about it. Steve was immediately biting back a groan even as heat began to creep up the back of his neck. And the chiding, even challenging look he fixed on the former paratrooper did nothing to quell Sam's amusement. If anything, it only encouraged it.

Of course it did…

But, perhaps not surprisingly, it wasn't Sam who spoke up first to start the inevitable ribbing.

"So," Steve warily met his oldest friend's eye, easily catching Bucky's nearly impish, questioning look, "you and Nadya?" Only to frown, startled.

"Nadya?" Steve repeated automatically. It took him a second longer than it probably should have to realize who he meant. Bucky frowned back, shifting almost nervously in his seat as a perplexed look crossed his face.

And unease settled in once again, Steve's stomach sinking.

It had been so easy to fall back on what they had, almost forgetting…

It stung, being reminded that, despite the encouraging glimpses of his old self, Bucky was no longer the man he'd known.

That he might never be again.

"Nady—she doesn't go by Nadya anymore, does she," Bucky said, visibly uncomfortable. Steve faltered, not quite succeeding in pasting a reassuring look on his face.

"You mean Nadine?" Bucky didn't even spare a glance at Sam's cautious question, still watching Steve with a suddenly carefully veiled, though faintly unsettled expression.

"She was Nadya when I knew her," Bucky said with a shrug. But as valiantly as he tried, there was no hiding the flash of vulnerability in Bucky's eyes, or how troubled he suddenly was. Or how haunted.

Steve barely even had to spare Sam a look. With a mumbled excuse about keeping a lookout for Nadine's return, the former paratrooper was slipping from the room and down the stairs.

Leaving Steve and Bucky alone in the warmly lit former break room.

With a heavy sigh, Steve moved to settle in the centre of the couch opposite Bucky, leaning forward to brace his forearms on his knees, his hands clasping together as he considered just what to say. They really couldn't put it off any longer, much as part of Steve might like to. There were things he just had to know, though. And now that they had been afforded the perfect opportunity? Steve couldn't justify letting it pass by.

No matter how uncomfortable and upsetting it was liable to be, for both him and Bucky.

It was a long, pregnant moment before he had collected himself enough to speak.

"How bad is it," Steve asked sedately, finally looking up to Bucky. "Your…well, what they did to your head? Your memories?" Bucky sighed so heavily in response it was nearly a groan, his features tight and grim as he fought to keep his expression controlled. It left him looking pained instead. Pained and reluctant. He didn't want to admit how bad it was, which told Steve more than enough on its own. After a minute, Bucky leaned forward to mirror Steve's pose, his hands fisting tight between his knees.

"Not as bad as it was at first," he admitted, the words all but forced, "but still…disjointed a lot of the time. Some days are better than others." He met Steve's eye then, an attempt at a depreciating grin on his lips. "But I'm pretty sure everything's there again." Steve felt his lip twitch, but the weight of his friend's reality weighed too heavily. It was then that Bucky's expression grew distant, softening as a real, albeit small, smile emerged.

"Iris…Iris helped." Steve smiled for real at the change in him, a flicker of relief surfacing through the heartache he felt for his best friend. Whatever it was he'd had with this Iris woman? She'd given Bucky back a piece of himself. Even if leaving her had torn Bucky up with guilt, she'd helped him find some peace even if only for a short time, letting him begin to rebuild himself. Hope fluttered in his gut, only to sink again.

As much as he hated the very idea of pressing for Bucky to revisit the darker periods of his past…there were things he needed to know.

"So you remember your…your history with Nadine—Nadya?" As soon as the lowly-spoken question had left Steve's lips, Bucky's features fell, his shoulders sagging. Slowly, his face nearly unreadable it was suddenly so full of conflicting emotion, Bucky nodded.

"Yeah, I remember her." Steve winced at how hollow he suddenly sounded, his voice barely audible as his gaze dropped back to his hands. "I remember all of it; it's…hazy, some of it, but it's all there." His fists clenched tighter, the metal one whirring quietly, groaning in protest. Twice, he seemed about to speak before faltering. "You—she…told you? What happened…everything that happened?" Steve tried not to grimace at how much effort it appeared to take for Bucky to get the words out, dulled and reluctant as they were even with the barely perceptible relief threaded through them—relief that Steve already knew, if his sudden instinct was right. Judging by the way Bucky winced as he risked a glance to him? It wasn't wholly successful. Steve nodded, forcing his own hands to loosen their grip on each other; his fingers actually ached at the movement. For a brief moment, he considered telling Bucky the circumstances, but there was an almost panicked agitation beginning to surface in his eyes. The idea was dismissed immediately and forcefully; it wasn't the right time for that story.

His gut was already twisting into knots enough at what he felt compelled to ask next.

A question that had been haunting him ever since that day on the Helicarrier when Nadine had confessed everything about her past with Bucky.

"Did you have a choice?"

Bucky frowned as he looked up at Steve. The Captain faltered before continuing, clarifying what he meant, pushing past the unease intent on silencing him. "You and—being with her. She…she thinks she used you…but from what she's said about—about what happened? I don't…" he sighed heavily, silently berating himself for not getting to the point faster and forcing himself to stop rambling. "Were you ordered to? Or was it your own choice?" Bucky's frown eased from uncertain to withdrawn and thoughtful, his face closing off. That alone had Steve's unease deepening.

"I think it was," the dark-haired man finally responded, his voice reserved and just as hesitant as Steve's, "in a way. It's—hard—to remember, exactly. I was fighting the programming by then. I'd been out of cryo for a while; the longer I was out and awake, the more my mind seemed to recover, sort of…at least a little. It wasn't an order, not exactly. I suppose…I suppose the best way to put it is that they ordered me into the room with her where I was to do as I…wanted." His features twisted with guilt and shame as his shoulders slumped further. Steve suddenly felt sick. But…but he couldn't bring himself to stop Bucky, either. As horrified with his past as Bucky looked? There was almost a desperation to his tone that kept Steve silent, instinct telling him that Bucky needed to get this out. To confess it, as it were. Bucky sighed, his head falling to press against his clenched fists, his fingers loosening after a moment to tug at his hair. He still couldn't bring himself to look at Steve.

"But then, it wasn't exactly a—conscious choice either," he said miserably, "On some level, I—I must have wanted it, or it wouldn't have happened." His hands falling from his head, Bucky grinned wanly, the expression almost painfully bitter. But he still couldn't manage to quite look up at Steve. At that he fell silent, and as the moment stretched on, Steve began to wonder if his friend wasn't going to continue.

And part of him was beginning to hope that he wouldn't…

"But I wasn't in control, either," Bucky finally said, his voice turning tense and even angry, startling Steve. His hands fisted again, the metal one even screeching softly at how tightly his fingers had clenched. "I—it was—hell, it was instinct…I can't put it any other way. I wasn't—I wasn't concerned about her; I can't even remember properly if she, well…enjoy is definitely the wrong word. I remember, the first time—I remember her crying when it was over. I think…I think I remember hurting her, and I didn't want to; I tried to comfort her, I think, but my mind was too scrambled to do it right. I think I only made it worse…" Steve shifted uneasily, swallowing thickly against the way his stomach roiled at hearing Bucky bleakly relate what had happened. Especially as guilt of his own began to surface.

Not to mention the dread suddenly pooling in his gut as he wondered if he'd just pushed too far…if he'd crossed a line Bucky wasn't ready—or able—to cross when it came to confronting his past.

Bucky deflated then, the flash of helpless rage dimming until a tortured misery and what Steve could only describe as defeat rose to replace it.

"I was there when they ordered her to do it, Steve," he said with the air of a grave confession, sounding impossibly weary; heartsick was the word that suddenly came to mind for Steve, "And I was there when our handlers were discussing it after she refused; her supervisor assured mine that she would do it anyway. It's…fuzzy—disjointed even, like a…a skip on a record—but I remember it. She had the illusion of choice, but she really didn't have much at all." He finally looked up to Steve then, his gaze grave and far more steady than Steve had expected, his eyes hardening as a dim spark of fury lit deep within them. "You never saw that place, Steve," he said softly, almost threatening in his intensity, in his need to make Steve understand. "You don't know what those girls went through. Even if Romanoff and Nadya told you about it, I guarantee they didn't tell you all of it. I caught a glimpse when I was there, and I still can barely comprehend the kinds of things those girls, those children were expected—forced to do."

Steve couldn't breathe for the weight suddenly crushing in on his chest. He knew Bucky was right. Even though Nadine and Natasha both had begun to open up about that place? He'd always known that for every scrap they let slip, there was far, far more they were holding back. Dismay and heartache for what they had endured—for every unspeakable thing that had happened in that God-forsaken place—flooded through him…followed closely by a shame he knew he'd never be rid of…

To think that, even for the short time he'd believed it, that he'd thought Nadine complicit in what had happened. That he'd accused her of as much.

When she had been every bit as much of a victim as Bucky had been.

For what felt like the millionth time, he silently cursed himself for the way he had acted that day on the Quinjet, the way he'd leapt to the most awful conclusion he could, refusing to see the truth as it had stood right before his eyes…

And Bucky…he could only imagine the horror he must have felt…trapped inside his own mind as he was forced to go against every principle he'd ever held sacred…not just where Nadine was concerned, but in every horrific act HYDRA had forced upon him; the killing, the torture…to stand by and do nothing…to become the very thing he'd fought to stop…

Hell, he could see echoes of it in the tension settling across Bucky's shoulders and the agitation visible in the tightness of his jaw, his minutely thinned lips.

In that moment, Steve wanted nothing more than to comfort his friend, to build him back up the way Bucky always had for him when he'd been beat down. It was almost painful, how badly he needed to at least try and help.

But he didn't know how.

Not seeing the glimpse he saw now of just how potent Bucky's feelings of self-loathing and shame were over this one act alone, how deeply it and every other nightmarish memory consumed him. How it threatened to tear him apart all over again.

What could he possibly hope to say that would even begin to make it better?

"So you…" he faltered, unsure how to phrase his question, "were you aware? Even…even a little when you were…the Winter Soldier?" Bucky went very still, the guilt suffusing his features faltering as he once more grew thoughtful. Not that it exactly diminished, either.

"I…in a way…maybe? It's…it's hard to describe…" he finally said, struggling to find a way to explain it. "The longer I was out of cryofreeze, the more resilient my mind was, I suppose; I was better able to…to separate myself from my programming, I suppose, and…and to fight it." It was then, despite everything Steve had forced him—was forcing him to relive, that a small smile broke out on Bucky's face. It startled Steve so profoundly that he straightened. If anything, Bucky's expression had grown almost…fond. "It's why you were able to get through to me as much as you did in Washington," he said, sounding almost relieved to Steve, baffling as it was to realize, "and how Nadya could almost get through to me back then. Both times, I'd been out long enough that my mind was beginning to, I don't know, come close to overpowering the programming. It just needed a final push. Like you gave me on the Helicarrier…like she did when I caught her running."

Steve shifted, something that felt uncomfortably like jealousy squirming in his chest at the way Bucky was talking about Nadine. He knew how much Bucky cared for his girl from DC. He could see how much he loved her…but…

Just as he'd needed to know about what had happened all those years before from Bucky as he'd heard it from Nadine, he had the sudden need to hear him say it.

"You care about her," Steve forced out before he lost his nerve, "don't you."

Bucky straightened, his brow furrowing with confusion. "I…what?" Steve inhaled deeply, all at once feeling foolish and jealous and any number of other conflicting emotions.

"Nadine. Do you…Buck, did you…grow to care for her?" Bucky sighed heavily. And Steve was suddenly uncertain he wanted to hear his answer.

Only for a weak smirk to curl Bucky's lip as he looked pointedly to Steve.

"You're asking because you like her," he asked with a faint note of astonishment. Steve was taken aback, uncertain in a way he rarely was when it came to reading Bucky. Was…was that a deflection? He shifted nervously, leaning forward once more, forearms returning to his knees, hands once again clasping tight.

"Does…does that bother you?" he asked, affecting his usual confident manner even though he felt anything but just then. Heck, he felt nearly like the skinny, bumbling boy he'd been back in what felt like another life all over again.

"Does it…wait, are you asking for my…my okay?" Bucky blurted out, faintly bewildered. Steve shrugged, the back of his neck warming with embarrassment. Bucky made a small huffing sound that sounded suspiciously like laughter.

"Well…not exactly," Steve countered. Only to falter at the look Bucky fixed him with; that Bucky didn't buy it was clear. "Okay, for a while, I thought I needed to, maybe—but now?"

"Wait, you haven't made a move because of…of me? Because of what happened all those years ago?" Bucky clarified, this time clearly incredulous. Steve was severely tempted to fidget. Now it seemed foolish, but before? Before he'd found Bucky again?

"Is that so hard to believe?" he asked, sobering as he recalled precisely why he'd held back despite his steadily growing feelings for the blonde assassin…there was still so much Bucky didn't know…

But he sighed then, forcibly reminding himself that there were things that weren't his to share. He looked up to Bucky, taking in his friend's questioning look, "I mean…you two do have a past, Buck. Until I found out about your Iris? I couldn't know if there was something…something more there for you. I didn't want to step on that." Bucky sobered.

"I…yeah, I suppose you do have a point." He slumped back into the couch then, brow furrowing faintly, gaze distant.

It felt like an age before he finally got his thoughts together enough to finally answer Steve's question. Steve's heart nearly hammered with anticipation. Even knowing what his friend was likely to say.

"In another life? Maybe," Bucky admitted with a shrug, "I don't know if what I felt for her would've ever led to a real future together. Not that I don't…care, I suppose. In a way, I suppose I do. Just not…that way." He hesitated, frowning, visibly unsatisfied at how he was explaining himself. Not that it really mattered to Steve. Surprisingly—or not so surprisingly, really—he understood exactly what Bucky was trying to say. Bucky sighed heavily, then, his hands unconsciously echoing his shoulders as Bucky shrugged again.

"But we'll never know now," he said, sounding nearly resigned if it weren't for the lack of disappointment to his tone. Some regret, yes, but it seemed clear it wasn't borne out of any lingering affections for Nadine beyond the sort of sympathetic bond their circumstances forged. Just like what Nadine had described back on the Helicarrier above Sokovia, Steve realized.

Bucky looked tentatively up to Steve, as though uncertain how his explanation was being received as he continued, "and…and even if I hadn't found Iris… I don't think there could be anything…lasting between us now even if there had been something…more. Not with everything that happened between us and…and to us. Not with all the time that's passed. There's too much…baggage." He winced at the phrasing, but seemed unable to come up with anything better. Nevertheless, the squirming thread of jealousy plaguing Steve finally began to relent. And it was as if a weight Steve hadn't realize had been sitting on his chest had lifted.

Bucky shot Steve a crooked smile, then.

"So you're out of excuses not to ask her out."

Steve groaned with exasperation, his head falling to his hands.

"Lost your mind for near seventy years and still you won't cut me a break," he muttered.

Much to Steve's mingled relief and chagrin, Bucky actually, genuinely, laughed.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I know some of you have been waiting as anxiously for this one as I have been to post it! I hope you all loved it!

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See you all next time!

Guest Reviews:

Guest: Yay! That's so awesome to hear, lovely. I'm glad you loved it that much. It really means so much to me to hear. And that's fair. Everyone has their own tastes, after all. I tend to gravitate to reading stories with lots of introspection, myself, which probably explains why I love writing inside my characters heads so much! It's just so interesting to me. I hope you enjoyed the Early Chapter! It had part of what you were after, after all. ;) lol! Thanks for reviewing!

Jag: Hahaha! It was pretty sweet and adorable, wasn't it. Lol! It was a lot of fun to write, especially the Banter. I've had parts of that written almost since the beginning, you know, so it was super exciting to share. So I'm doubly happy that you and everyone else seems to have loved it so much! Thanks for reviewing!

Jo: There's only one way to find out what's going to happen, then, I suppose. ;) Stay tuned! Lol! And isn't the cuteness just the best? I just adored writing those bits. I'm so happy you loved them. Thanks for reviewing!