"You know, if you didn't want to watch football with me you could have just said so." Sam told Bellamy once she returned to the tower. It was a relief that he wasn't mad at her for ditching him at the café, or hurling 1,000 questions at her. Though, the concern in his eyes was unmissable.

Bellamy smiled, one full of relief and apology at the same time.

"You're right, I'm just tired of spending so much time with you. That's why I run with you every morning." He cracked a smile back. The concern remained in his eyes, and she knew Sam wasn't the type of person who would pester; he would drop it if she never said anything about it. But she felt that she owed Sam more. "No, I just…sitting there, I thought I saw someone I knew pass by the window. It wasn't them. I needed to get away." Sam's face grew serious as he nodded slowly.

"And this someone…I'm going to assume you were close?" Bellamy swallowed and tried not to avoid his gaze. "You…lost them?"

Lost. Sam meant it in one way, in the gone forever type of way. But as she heard the words, it suddenly was capable of so many meanings.

"We were both lost. In a way, I thought we were helping each other find ourselves. I sound bitter, but they left and left me missing them. In reality, I know I helped and they appreciated it, but they needed to go, continue on for themselves…"

"…But you still miss them." Sam finished for her lightly, nodding in understanding. Bellamy sighed and merely nodded, unable to add on the rest. Not only did she miss Bucky, she loved him. That was it. "I know that must be hard. Letting them finish their own journeys is important though. I'm not surprised you were capable of doing that, but it's not an easy thing to let go." Bellamy smirked a bit cynically.

"They didn't really give me a choice." Sam shrugged.

"Steve doesn't really have that choice either. He's still looking." Bellamy blinked and quickly swallowed, looking away from Sam and making sure she had never mentioned Bucky's name on accident. No, she hadn't, but the more she thought for the rest of the night, the more Sam's words made her delve into her mindset.

Bucky didn't want to be found. He didn't exactly want to leave, that was what he had said, but he needed to. And with his words, with Sam's, she could look at the situation outside of herself. Steve wasn't going to find him, and neither was she. It would be the best thing, feelings aside, to let him go and do what he needed. Be free for once. She was neutral in between when it came to being selfish and selfless, but this was the first time she realized she couldn't be selfish, not with Bucky. And she wondered what Steve would do if he knew Bucky's thoughts, if he would back off too if he knew what she knew.

Watching football with Sam on the couch stirred old memories of nights with her brother spent on the couch together, eating wings. Despite understanding football, she didn't quite have an interest in it, but the feeling of it was comforting, as was listening to Sam react to plays and provide his own commentary. In sweatpants and socks, casually sprawled out, the tower felt like a home for the first time.

When a commercial came around, Bellamy spoke up.

"I don't think I can help Steve anymore." Sam glanced at her.

"With finding Barnes?"

"We've checked all over New York, and D.C. Before I even joined, you and Steve had even searched overseas. We haven't had any leads, no luck at all. It's a lost cause." Sam never agreed or disagreed. Instead, he merely took another chicken wing, and paused.

"Well, you're going to have to tell Steve yourself." Bellamy bit her lip, when her phone started ringing. Ironically, it was Steve himself. She frowned slightly, but answered and put him on speaker.

"Steve?"

"Hey, Belle." He paused, his voice sounding tired. She sat up on the couch a little straighter. "I'm just letting you know we finished up here sooner than expected. We'll be back home sometime late this evening."

"Sounds good." She replied, glancing at Sam.

"Have you been okay, is Sam behaving?" Sam leaned over closer to the phone.

"You're on speakerphone smartass. And actually, it's your friend who's the troublemaker." Bellamy nudged his shoulder, and the laughed together, hearing Steve's laugh come through the phone too.

"Somehow, I doubt that." He replied. "It's really good to hear you guys. I'll see you soon."

"Take care." Bellamy hung up, still frowning a bit; Steve never called to let them know when they were coming back. He had never called her Belle before either, it came so casually that she didn't question it. She didn't question it when he called the tower 'home' either.

"I see how it is," Sam muttered beside her, giving her a side eye. "First of all, he calls your phone. On top of that, you can answer him, but me, I go to voicemail."

"Stop." She chided, nudging him again, but she couldn't remain humorous. "Steve never calls before he's home."

"He sounded a bit off." Sam agreed. "Maybe they had a close call."

That question was answered as the team arrived back, unusually quiet. Clint disappeared silently up towards the roof, while Tony and Bruce immediately left to the lab, no words spoken. Even Thor left to his room, appearing somber and silent. Natasha rubbed Steve's back and gave him a meaningful look before she followed after Clint. Steve himself joined them in the living area, where he plopped down on the couch between Sam and herself with a grunt.

"You okay?" Sam asked quietly, patting Steve's shoulder. It appeared Steve could finally relax as he let himself slump into the couch, eyes half open, before he nodded slowly. Without thinking, Bellamy began to scan the skin that was visible for any damage. Other than a scratch on his chin, he was fine, but it didn't calm her nerves.

"I am. I am now." He said, as if he could finally believe it, before he swallowed hard and looked down. "Nat almost got hurt. It would've been my fault."

"Steve," Bellamy disagreed gently, and Steve shook his head.

"You weren't there. It was on me." He rubbed his face tiredly.

"Stop that, okay? She's still here, she's still alive. You all are. And I sure as hell doubt Nat blames you. You're all breathing, you're back early…I'd say that's a damn good day's work." Sam told him, to which Steve finally cracked a smile and looked gratefully towards his friend.

"I just shouldn't be making that kind of a stupid mistake. I…I don't know what I would have done if we lost her."

"But you didn't. Everyone makes mistakes." Bellamy smiled reassuringly towards him as he faced her. "Even Captain America." Steve smiled again, and leaned back comfortably between the two of them.

"Thanks, guys. I really am glad to be back." A few minutes later, Steve had fallen asleep. She and Sam exchanged a look of concern. Steve was wearing himself thin, always on the go, always with a new duty, a new mission, a new goal. But that was who Steve was.

"He should be in his bed," Bellamy whispered to Sam. "Not here and waking up with a stiff neck." Sam made a face at her.

"What do you want me to do, carry him to bed?" She rolled her eyes before gently shaking Steve awake. His eyes popped open quickly.

"It's okay, it's okay. It's after midnight, you should get some rest." He stared at her as he gathered his bearings before he blinked and nodded. She watched him rise and walk almost groggily towards his bedroom. "Steve?" He paused and glanced back at her. "Do you need anything?" Finally, he seemed himself again as he smiled towards her gratefully.

"I'm okay," he promised. "Thanks."

As she nodded and turned back towards Sam, he gave her a look of understanding. Telling Steve her newest revelation wasn't going to be easy.

It was a Tuesday again, and Bellamy left the tower on her own for the first time in a long time, on a hopeful mission. It was early morning and Susanna's Café would be opening soon. Truthfully, she couldn't get the McGraths out of her mind, or the uncomfortable suspicion that something wasn't right.

On her way, walking peacefully and alone with her thoughts, she couldn't help but think of her walks to the same place with Bucky. They had been silent too, but it was more distinct in nature. Still peaceful, still comfortable, but full of something incomprehensible. That "something," that feeling was sorely missed, and something she hadn't felt since he left. Maybe that's what love felt like. Maybe it had different shades, like the color red did.

Inside the barely open coffee shop, she couldn't bring herself to order a coffee again. Instead, she went with tea and went to sit at a table in the corner to wait. Mainly, she kept a subtle eye on the people coexisting in the café with her, but only inside. It scared her to look outside the windows again, fearing she would see another mirage.

The McGraths didn't show at their normal time. It had been a couple of hours, and just as Bellamy was deciding to perhaps just leave, she noticed John walking in the door. Her heart sank when she realized he was alone.

His gaze swept around the room, and when they met eyes, his face turned to something of a small bittersweet half-smile. Slowly, he headed towards her and removed his hat. Bellamy stood quickly.

"Bellamy," he greeted her, and took her outstretched hand. She waited silently, and he sighed before he looked her in the eyes. "My angel's gone."

Bellamy could feel her eyes starting to water. She swallowed hard and squeezed his hand, to which he took his free hand and rubbed her back, as if he were trying to comfort her. He pulled out a chair beside hers and they sat together.

"We've known for some time." He began, his voice soothing. "She took the diagnosis like a champ, better than I did, as she did with most things in life. The funny thing is, I always feared it would be me leaving her alone, especially back in my war days. The thought would keep me up at night. I told her that, and she took my hand with that grin of hers and told me, 'Well, I bet you weren't expecting me to beat you to it. You're going to make me wait for you again, aren't you, darling?'" Bellamy cleared her throat, looking at John's hand still in hers.

"I'm so sorry to hear. I'll miss her."

"She was never afraid of anything. We laid her to rest back home, in North Carolina. I assure you she felt the same about you, my dear." He reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. "She wanted me to give you this, but she wanted you to open it on your birthday in a couple of weeks." It had her name on the front written in pretty cursive. Bellamy tried to turn her frown into a smile. "I'm glad I caught you today, we haven't been in for some time."

"Neither have I." Bellamy admitted. "I've been doing some readjusting in my life. I was here last week, but I heard you weren't. I knew I needed to be here today." He smiled at her and patted her hand.

"Somehow, I knew it too, that you would be here. It's nice to see your face again. How is Bennie?" Bellamy swallowed.

"He's great. He's doing some traveling. Soul-searching." He nodded slowly, and smiled.

"Well, when you get the chance, tell him thank you for the lovely flowers. We got them this morning. Brilliant white irises. She would've loved them." Bellamy blinked blankly at John before she smiled and nodded absently.

It couldn't have been Bucky, he was far away God knows where. The McGraths knew many people, it was likely he knew more than one Bennie. Perhaps he was only guessing they were from Bucky, unlike her who wished every unexplainable occurrence was his doing.

After sitting for some time with John, she left with a promise to come back next week at their usual time. Once she left, she felt that she couldn't go back to the tower just yet and found her feet carrying her back to her apartment.

At her mailbox, she pulled out a stack of junk mail and tried to calmly sort through each piece without expecting to find another unaddressed envelope. Her heart jolted when she did, at the bottom. Quickly, the rest of the mail was shoved back into the box and she ripped open the envelope impatiently.

To you who warmed my soul,

I still can't sleep. Sometimes I'll sit and watch the sunrise. I think of you the most during these times, because I'd do the same thing at your apartment with you in the next room. It was like clockwork every day. The sun would rise and you would come with it and my day got brighter in every way. You had a lot to do with awakening this new part of me, and I wanted you to know. I don't even know if you're getting these, but I hope you are.

I still write memories I remember down, and I have more than one notebook now. I think about the time you hugged me at the Arlington Cemetery a lot. You were crying over your father's grave, and then you saw me. You knew I'm the reason he's gone, but you still came to me, you still wanted me to hug you.

You always felt so fragile, like a little doll. Maybe it's because you were in my arms and I know what I'm capable of doing. And then I remember what I was always supposed to do, destined to do. But in that moment, every moment I ever held you in my arms, I could never imagine hurting you in any way. My mind couldn't wrap around the idea. And I realized I never wanted to see you hurt. So sometimes, I'm glad I left when I did, but most of the time I just think about you, in my arms.

I've made a lot of progress lately. I don't want you to worry, but I'm preparing to take down a large base soon. I've done my research, I know exactly what I'm getting into. I don't want you to worry about me, ever. Sometimes I don't want to send these, it took me forever to send the first one, because there's a part of me that wants you to just move on from me. But just leaving doesn't feel right, and I miss you. I don't know anymore, it's like I'm tugged in multiple directions every day. But if for some reason one day these letters stop coming, you have to move on. Don't you dare cry over me, or waste your life waiting for me. I want you to be happy and do what makes you happy. Find more ways to help people, you're great at that.

I don't know if you understand why I'm out here doing this, maybe you don't, but I have a feeling you do. You always understood me when I didn't even understand myself. I know I'm doing the right thing. And being away, it's not ideal, but…it's allowing me to make my own choices. Rediscover more parts of myself. More importantly, it lets me stop HYDRA and do good. Be good. Finally, I feel like I'm setting things right. But I still feel something missing. Like I said before, it's probably you…it always is.

Yours forever

It was as if so many things were hitting her at once. She didn't quite know what to do, or how to process anything, and she almost felt weightless as she drifted back absent-mindedly to the tower, the weight of the two letters in her back pockets the only thing keeping her on the ground.

"Bellamy?" It was Steve calling her from the other room. He came around the corner, holding a vase with white carnations. She blinked at the sight. "These came in for you today."

Steve stood by as she opened the card attached to the flowers. It was the same handwriting her eyes had just read.

I'm so sorry for your loss. -Bennie Taylor

Bellamy kept rereading it repeatedly, unable to quite believe the writing in front of her. She frowned harder as she swept her thumb over the writing, smearing the ink and wondering if maybe she were going crazy.

How did he know? Was he near after-all? Her mind continued to race until Steve's voice cut into her thoughts, a small smile on his lips that reminded her she was even more alone in her own world, and ever around her seemed to live in a different one.

"Secret admirer?" He guessed, lightly teasing. She read the note one last time before she looked up.

"No. Condolences. A friend of mine passed recently." Steve's face immediately fell.

"Oh, Bellamy…I'm so sorry." His large hand grasped her shoulder and squeezed it gently. "Is there anything I can do?" She took a breath, almost immediately resorting to telling him no, her first instinct. That everything was fine. Instead, she could only blink at him.

"I'm...I think I'm numb to it all right now. I think I want to be alone, but I don't think I should be." He nodded slowly, respectfully.

"I've got an idea. Meet me on the roof, alright? I'll be there soon."

There wasn't much on the roof other than a view of the city. She stared out at it, unable to focus on one thing in her mind. Steve came not too long after her. In his hand, he carried a small sketchbook. She tilted her head.

He joined her side silently, looking out below too. The wind ruffled their shirts and hair and added a soft whirring sound to their atmosphere.

"When I need a minute, I come up here." He spoke after a minute. "Sometimes I'll find Clint or Natasha. But usually, I'm alone. And I'll sketch. If I'm focusing on details in front of me, it takes my mind's attention off whatever is bothering me."

"I can't draw." She told him, and he smiled.

"Everyone starts somewhere."

"Is it something you picked up recently?" He shook his head.

"It started when I younger. I even went to art school." She looked curiously to the sketchbook still in his hand, and he raised it up to her. "You can look if you'd like." She almost considered against it, not wanting to be invasive, but her curiosity got the best of her and she began to flip through the pages.

There were many pieces of New York scenery, buildings, parks, historical landmarks. There were even some of random citizens, friends on benches, a couple at a nearby café table. Doodles drawn as an escape from the world. A portrait of Natasha that made her gasp softly at it's incredible detail, and even one of Bruce.

"They're the only ones able to sit patiently." He explained. She looked from the pages back up to him, unable to speak.

"…Steve, this is incredible. How come you never told me?"

"It isn't really something I tell people, it's just something I do." He said with a humble shrug. She smiled lightly.

"If you really expect me to try and do this…"

"No, I didn't bring you up here for art lessons. Unless, of course, you wanted to learn then I could. You said you wanted to be alone, but not entirely, and I just thought maybe…you wouldn't mind me sketching you?" Suddenly she understood. "We don't even have to talk. It'll be like I'm not even here. Or we can talk if you want. It's up to you." She smiled, before she nodded.

"Oh, why not..." She handed him the sketchbook back and they sat together on the ground, the wind still blowing. Her gaze fixed again out towards the city, but she couldn't keep herself from glancing at Steve a little way away from her and try not to smile at the sight of him sitting cross-legged, concentrating. "Steve?"

"Hm?"

"You could be an artist." He chuckled softly. "I'm serious."

"Sure, maybe. Maybe I could. But keeping the world safe takes precedent." His words made her ache for a purpose of her own.

"Why not both?"

"I don't know…I guess this is just something I keep to myself."

"That seems a little wrong, not letting the rest of the world in on something so great." She murmured, almost frowning down at her hands in her lap. "…I'd love to have such a talent."

"You have your own talents. Helping others, for example. You don't realize your impact. Sam told me just the other day having you around is like having a sister he never had. Nat finally reads more like she always said she wanted since you recommended all those books to her. No one listens to Bruce talk about climate change as sincerely as you." Bellamy listened to him speak, glad she didn't have to look him in the eye at the moment. "You've become one of my closest friends, Belle. I can't ever repay you for being here, helping me with something like this." Guilt pressed down on her shoulders.

"You know, my father called me Belle too. And Bella, and Belly, and Bellamore…" Her attempt at changing the subject was weak, but she was hoping it would work.

"I didn't know, I can stop if you want. I just thought Bellamy was a mouthful—it's a pretty name, of course, but…" When she looked at Steve he had paused his work and was watching her cautiously, as though he thought he had offended her.

"It's fine, don't worry." She expected a smile, but he frowned even more.

"Can I ask you something?" Her stomach flipped a bit nervously, and she hesitated at first but nodded. "Ever since you agreed to stay here and help, I can't stop wondering…after everything Bucky did, how did you forgive him?" Steve was the only person who had heard the story of her brother's death from her lips rather than a file. But she had never told him the rest, she didn't even know the rest, until now.

"I never knew how my father died." She began. Steve was frowning. "It was always kept from me. Hush-hush as though I were a child, nudged away from the topic. Before he died, Alexander Pierce told me the truth, that it was the Winter Soldier. My mother pieced in the rest." She ignored Bucky entirely, though she still remembered vividly the day he told her the truth. "The Winter Soldier was never after my family, he was after me. My family died because of me. When I found out, I saw red. I wanted him dead. But my mother, she knew the truth the entire time. She carried the weight for so long, and she'd had time to grieve. It was her who told me I needed to forgive. It does nothing to hate. Besides that, it wasn't him who deserved it."

She turned to Steve, taking in the look of surprise in his eyes. It made her realize how steady and calm her words were in contrast, how she had come to accept everything. He sat there for a moment more, taking her words in, before he spoke.

"I'm so sorry, Bellamy." His apology was sincere. "You must get that from her. Your strength." She chuckled, turning to glance at him.

"No. It came with pretending. And time. I don't really feel strong at all."

"Well, I think you are. And I'm Captain America." He grinned crookedly, and she rolled her eyes, but smiled. "Oh, yeah, Sam was telling me you wanted to talk about something?" Guilt pressed down on her again, even more severely than before.

"Nothing, just wondering what our next plan of action is." She replied coolly.

"That isn't really it, is it?" As they had grown closer, Steve was no longer fooled by her words. She sighed, inspecting cars on the road below. "You can tell me, Bellamy. You think I'm wasting my time, don't you."

"It doesn't matter what I think." She decided on the spot, looking at Steve. "I don't know how you see the situation, I'm not in your shoes. But if you want to keep looking, I'll do my best to help." They were at a disagreement, but it was gone and dissolved as Steve gave her a half-smile and a nod.

The wind picked up again, keeping them company as they sat in close company. It seemed such an odd year she was having—never would she have believed only a year ago that she would be so close to Steve, to the other Avengers. To be helplessly in love. But mostly, to feel so lost. For the first time, however, sitting there with Steve, it didn't feel so aimless. Maybe her purpose was still missing, but every other piece in her life were offering her the best stability they could. Maybe it was fine, it would be fine after-all.

"What do you say we pick up dinner duty tonight?" Steve suggested when the sun sank behind the buildings. It was getting cool outside.

"Here I was hoping Bruce would be making that Cajun pasta again." She heard him chuckle behind her.

"We could always ask, and offer a hand. I wouldn't mind learning the recipe." He had stood and walked over to her, offering his hand to help her up.

"Worth a shot." As they walked back towards the stairwell, Steve placed his arm over her shoulders, and gave her a squeeze.

"It'll get better. Don't worry about things, okay?"

She thought a lot about his words later that night as she walked into the living room, plopping down on the couch next to Sam. He only took one look at her before gave her something of a knowing look.

"How could I even consider telling him that." She muttered lowly, still feeling her guilt lingering.

"For what it's worth, I think you're right." He told her. "But he's never going to stop looking." He didn't have to finish—both of them knew it, neither of them could stop as long as he kept going. Steve wasn't going to change his mind, and she could only offer the most support she could. Bellamy almost at times felt as though she didn't deserve a person like Steve in her life, it still surprised her when she really thought about it.

"Back at it tomorrow?" She with a breath of preparation.

"You know it." Sam confirmed.