The ground was uneven when the portkey dropped them off, making Steve stumble once again while Hermione somehow managed to land graciously. Only when he saw the familiar city-skyline did he realized they were on Stark Tower's broken landing pad. By the looks of it, the two warring Gods must have been smiting each other right here during the battle and Stark hadn't gotten around to repairing it yet.

"Why here?" he asked Hermione, unsure he could deal with Stark after what they'd just uncovered.

"Stark will know where to find Romanoff. Unless you want to go ask Fury?"

Steve shook his head. Stark was a slightly better option than Fury, who would just assign him another duty to keep him busy so he wouldn't be stirring the past in search of a ghost. Stark… Well, he might actually help, if they asked. He was good at hacking and ferreting out information, he knew that much at least. Maybe if Romanoff and history books didn't give them any leads, they could fall back on Stark and his AI…

"What are your plans?" he asked instead.

"Going to the library, of course."

Steve had to ask Jarvis where to find his creator. He found it unnerving talking to a being that was not actually alive, had no physical body, wasn't even a robot, and yet, was far more human and intelligent than a lot of folk he had met until then, which might explain why Steve made a point of being polite to the AI.

"He was in his workshop, but is making his way here as we speak, Captain."

"Oh. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Captain."

Steve wondered who had taught Jarvis such good manners when his own creator had none to speak of.

"Capsicle! Where's your hotter half? Did you two have a fight already? I know the best flower shops. Pepper never stays mad at me for long when I get her favourite flowers. Can't remember what those are right now, but the shop girl always does."

Steve just stared at him, musing whether the other man would just keep on speaking if he didn't interrupt him.

"Except when I really put my foot in it. Then, I have to get her shoes. Do you have any idea how much ladies shoes cost today? You'd think they're made out of diamonds."

So yes, apparently, if he let Stark's mouth run amok, he did not stop. Ever.

"No, no, nothing like that," Steve interrupted him. "Hermione just went to the library to look something up."

Stark's nose scrunched up.

"In a book?"

"Well, yeah, I suppose," he replied, confused about what else libraries might be used for nowadays.

Stark shook his head.

"And I had such high hopes for her. So, what is it you came here for? Did you miss me? Where were you two, by the way? No one could get a hold of you and- oh! I guess I should tell you Fury is looking for you and Dr Who?"

"Who?"

"Exactly."

Stark had lost him. With a shake of his head, Steve decided to ignore all the previous nonsense and ask Stark what he'd come here for.

"I'm looking for agent Romanoff. Do you know where I can find her?"

"She should be lurking around Fury now that she's not pretending to be my PA, but I can lure her here if you do me this one tiny little favour in exchange."

Stark must think he was an idiot.

"What favour?"

"Just… You know… dinner."

"Dinner?"

Steve was only getting more confused. Was Stark hitting on him?

"Yeah. You, me, Pepper and your girlfriend."

"You mean like a double-date?" Steve asked with some measure of relief. "Is that still a thing nowadays?"

"Sure. So?"

"Well, we're a bit busy at the moment…" Steve hedged.

To be honest, he didn't know how Hermione would feel about it. The only times they'd been out on dates had just been the two of them, except that one time by with Bucky by accident at the Stark Expo. Going out for dinner with another couple was not something Steve had ever imagined doing. Chances were it would be awkward as all hell.

"But I can promise to talk to Hermione about it," he finally offered.

"Good enough," Stark said, whipping out his phone and somehow confusing the SHIELD agent into coming to Stark Tower for some imaginary emergency concerning paperwork.

"So what it is you and mini-liberty are doing exactly?"

Steve pressed his lips together, looking down his nose at the other man. He was a worse gossip than his father, if only because he wasn't even being subtle about it.

"Just… exploring the modern world," he finally replied when it became obvious Stark wasn't going to either let go of his curiosity or go away. It wasn't completely a lie, so Steve didn't feel too guilty about giving a half-truth when Stark, aside from being his usual level of annoying, was actually being helpful and kind of nice.

"Need any help?"

"If I do, I'll let you know."

Stark actually beamed at this and clapped him on the shoulder, shaking his hand with a muttered "ouch" afterwards. Steve tried not to smirk and Romanoff's entrance was on point. Thankfully, she must not have been far. After berating Stark for his obvious lie, she turned to him to berate him for not simply calling her himself. Magic having fried his phone was not a good enough excuse according to her, but it did get her back on Stark's case to get on with making magic-resistant equipment. Stark fled back to his workshop, and Romanoff, "call me Natasha", gestured for him to follow her out to the patio.

"I'm assuming you'd rather Stark and his AI don't spy on us?"

Steve nodded. He hadn't even thought of that.

"And that I don't tell the Director I've seen you?"

Steve nodded again, smiling despite himself at how perceptive this woman was.

"Alright," she agreed with an easy shrug, not trying to bargain like Stark had. "What can I do for you?"

"You used to work for the Russians? The KGB?"

If she was surprised by his line of enquiry, she gave nothing away.

"I did. I hope you're not questioning my loyalties?"

"Of course not. No." His immediate denial seemed to please her. "I'm only asking because I have reasons to believe a, erm, friend of mine was taken by a Soviet patrol during the war. We've been able to track them down only so far, but it's been a while since it happened now…" He sighed. It was like it happened yesterday for him. "Do you have any way of checking Russian records for a trace of this capture. I know it's a long shot, but-"

"I can look into it."

Steve blinked at her easy acceptance, then became suspicious.

"Just like that? No prying, no conditions, no favours?"

"No, although I'm curious to know what Stark got out of you now," she laughed, her previously cold persona dropped completely. "I'll do this for you because I owe you for saving Clint, and because I want us to be friends. I can be a very good friend when I choose to."

Too surprised by her bluntness, Steve was at a loss for words.

"So, what's this soldier's name? Date and area of capture? Anything that can help me narrow down my research."

Steve gave her everything. Following his gut instinct, he decided to trust her.

"He must be a very good friend of yours for you to go to such lengths," she noted.

"The best."

And more, but he was only willing to share so much. When she had left, after giving him her number on a piece of paper so he could check in with her, Steve decided to join Hermione at the library in case he could be useful there. He was too restless to do anything that wasn't getting him closer to finding Bucky. Every second that passed without doing something useful felt like a missed opportunity. However, when he found Hermione, she was just leaving the building herself looking angrier than he had seen her in awhile.

"First time a library has let me down," she muttered. "I should have guessed. Russians were a secretive bunch in my dimension after all. I was looking into those conspiracy theories on the Internet but the computer… didn't like me."

"You mean you fried a computer?"

"It kept badgering me about updating. I didn't mean to fry it."

Steve nodded, having encountered that problem himself before. Quite frankly, he didn't miss his phone one bit, but as long as his witch wasn't nearby, they didn't die on him.

"I'll give it a try. You just tell me what to type."

And so they returned inside, managing to make their way down a rabbit hole of governmental conspiracies and world-wide cover-up until Steve was quite convinced they were all ruled by lizards from outer space wearing human suits.

"I'm not sure we can give all of this any credence," he told her once they had finished reading about Russia having a secret army of werewolves during the war.

"I don't know. I rather liked the one about the ghost radio station giving secret orders to Russian spies around the world. I could see that one being true."

"Sure hope it's not. We have enough on our hands with an impending alien attack without having to worry about humans too."

The library having given what little, unreliable information it could, and the sun beginning to disappear behind the looming buildings around them, they went in search of a hotel, finding one near their old neighbourhood which looked correct and not too pricey. It even had a normal phone in their room with a cord, so Steve checked in with Natasha to let them know where to find them.

It was still just a generic hotel room though, so it didn't feel as homey as he'd hoped, despite the neighbourhood being somewhat familiar and finally having a large bed of their own. They were both exhausted after their trip to Europe and quickly sank into the soft mattress, but Steve couldn't sleep, his mind still reeling from discovering Bucky had not died from his fall, guilt slowly eating at him like acid while he wondered where he could be right now. Steve shifted on his side to look at Hermione, hoping the sight of her would calm down his internal struggle, but she looked just as restless as he was. Her eyes closed, but scowling and biting her bottom lip every now and then, the way she always did when trying to figure out the solution to a problem.

"Can't sleep?"

Her eyes opened immediately, aand a sheepish smile graced her features.

"No. I keep thinking about Bucky. It's driving me crazy. I wish I had a way to find him. I keep going through the spells I know…"

Steve caressed her cheek, the affection he felt for her like a balm to the guilt gnawing at his insides.

"Your magic already helped us so much. We never would have gotten this far without it. Natasha is our best bet for now, so don't worry, I'm sure we'll have a new lead before long."

And if not, he would ask Stark, but his words seemed enough to alleviate her conscience and she snuggled up against him. One gesture of comfort led to another, tenderness turning more frantic and desperate as they searched for release.

A knock at their door early the next morning woke them up with a start.

"Romanoff?" Hermione asked as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"Better get dressed," Steve said reluctantly.

Natasha was dressed in her civvies with dark shades sitting on her nose. Frankly, Steve doubted that was enough for a dame like her to go unnoticed, but he appreciated the effort.

"Morning," she chirped with a knowing smirk.

It didn't take a genius to figure out they'd been going at it last night, what with how dishevelled they were, especially Hermione's hair, and the state of the bed.

"I take it you found something?" Steve asked.

She wouldn't be here this early if not.

"I've rarely seen such a well guarded secret for such an innocuous event. Even I lost track of it a couple of times."

Steve felt a knot form at his throat. What she was saying didn't bode well. Secrets, lies, deceit… All weapons used by the powerful to hide deeds too dangerous and unethical to share with the world. Steve himself was living proof of that: a human experiment that could have killed him, or worse, turned him into another Red Skull. What secret was Bucky buried under?

"Files were heavily edited and I had to go back to find originals of the earlier reports of a Soviet patrol saving a gravely injured American soldier."

Steve nodded for her to continue as Hermione held onto his hand with an iron grip.

"He received first aid in that village you stopped at, but then the patrol and your friend were extracted back to the Motherland and- I'm sorry, there's no good way to say this, but your friend was sold to Hydra."

Sold? They sold him? Bucky? Like… Some slab of meat at the market? And to Hydra? Steve was incensed and barely holding back from punching something. Anything. He had hoped so much that Bucky was well somewhere, or had had a peaceful life at least. This… Nothing could be worse. He gritted his teeth, willing away the horrific images going through his mind, when the light bulbs around them exploded, plunging the room back into semi-darkness.

"Sorry," Hermione said tersely before magicking the light bulbs back into place, alight once more.

Natasha cleared her throat, her voice quieter as she continued.

"I lost track of him from there. I don't have an in into Hydra archives, if they even have any, I don't even know where to begin. I'm sorry."

Steve nodded at Natasha, unsure whether he could speak right now. Hydra. Damn them all to hell. They'd had their hands on Bucky once before too. That Dr Zola had been experimenting on him and Hermione… What had they been doing? Was that why they bought Bucky? No, no, maybe not, because that doctor had betrayed Hydra and he doubted they would reward him for it with anything other than a bullet to the head.

Brushing aside the fate of that loose end for now, because if Zola hadn't been killed soon after, he had to have passed from old age today. It was a dead end either way.

"You mean Hydra didn't disband immediately after Red Skull died?" Hermione asked, having followed the same train of thought.

Steve, or rather, the Tesseract, had gotten rid of Hydra's leader just days after losing Bucky. It must have taken as long or longer for the Soviets to sell him to Hydra. Had they not gotten word of their defeat yet?

"No, just like the nazis. There were pockets of resistance until every last one of them was dealt with. Hydra more so because they were fanatics."

"So if Hydra bought him, for whatever reason, what could have happened to Bucky once they were dealt with?"

"Judging by SHIELD files from the time, they usually… "terminated" their prisoners. Or some other organisation or government might have collected him for their own use... Was there something special about him? Like the serum," she glanced at him, then at Hermione. "Or magic?"

Steve shook his head, swallowed against the lump in his throat.

"Maybe they had thought to use him against us? As a hostage? A pressure point? I don't know. It wasn't really a secret the three of us were very close, I suppose."

Natasha nodded.

"That sounds like Hydra alright. But they're out of the picture, so we need to pick up the trail from there. I've noted the last known bases around the area your friend was exchanged as well as what other known faction could have been operating in the area. We could start there."

"We?" Hermione asked, her head tilted to the side as she observed the red-head more attentively.

"I told Fury I was out looking for you two. It won't be a lie if I'm with you."

The two women shared a look of deep understanding that had the hair at the back of his neck stand on end. He was glad to have befriended Natasha as her help was, and would be invaluable, especially where they were going.

"Your portkeys can carry more than two, right?" Natasha asked.

"Yes. Although you might want to leave your phone behind since I doubt it will survive the trip. Where is it we're heading exactly?"

The closest Hermione could get them to their actual destination north of St Petersbourg was from the place she had been captured in Finland. Again, not the best of solutions for her, having to revisit a place full of bad memories, but Steve could feel the clock ticking, every passing second taking Bucky further away from them.

Steve waited in trepidation to see what the portkey would be this time and wasn't disappointed when she presented them with the hotel's bible.

"This feels like blasphemy," Steve said with a huff of exasperation.

"Thou shall not suffer a witch…" Hermione replied.

"Oh, alright," Steve huffed indignantly as he touched the bible, Natasha following his lead.

"It looks very different this time of year," Hermione said as she tried to get her bearings.

The ruins of a church stood behind them with a small village around it that seemed deserted. The rest of the landscape was mostly grassy hills with a few outcrops of rocks, shrubs and trees. A few animals grazed in the distance, although he couldn't tell what species they were from there.

Hermione made her wand spin above her hand as she and Natasha discussed which way to go, finally settling on an old dirt road overgrown with vegetation. It was actually a nice walk to the next inhabited village, but Steve put all his hatred and frustration into each step he took, almost envying the way the plants Hermione was stomping on withered or burst into flame as she walked forward with just as much determination and anger as he was.

In the next town, they rented a car using one of Natasha's aliases, changing it at the next town and so on until they were able to bribe a fisherman into taking them across a lake to Russia. From there, blending in was easy as long as they let Natasha do the talking. It took a few days, but they finally made it to the first place on Natasha's list, quickly followed by the next two, but all they found were ruins of bunker-like bases that were devoid of even the smallest clue they had been formerly occupied by Hydra, or anyone se for that matter. The constructions reduced to grey slabs of stone worn down by decades of harsh weather and humidity. The one after had resisted the test of time better, maybe because it still had a door and a roof to protect it contrary to the others. However, it also had strange equipment still in place which wouldn't have looked out of place at a dentist's practice. Steve guessed they had not been stolen or defaced only because they were of such sturdy make and screwed into the concrete floor with bolts the size of his fists.

"I wish we had more of his blood," Hermione whispered. "We'd know if he had been here…"

Maybe it was best they didn't. If Bucky had been in this place… Steve shuddered at the thought. Last time he had been tortured was bad enough, and there hadn't been all these chains, that chair, those cables hanging from the ceiling or that metal coffin which seemed tailor made to hold and contain one man like a very tight prison. Even Natasha seemed ill at ease.

"There is blood here," Natasha said pointing at dark stains behind the seat. "But who knows who that belongs to?"

It could give them a view into what Hydra had been doing here in any case. Unless it was blood from a rat or something.

"It's worth a try, I guess," Hermione agreed although she didn't sound too enthused by the prospect.

She set up the same ritual circle as the last time, and Natasha cursed when Hermione cut the palm of her hand to draw the symbols with her own blood. Then she began chanting. Steve knew the spell worked when the air became even darker and denser than it had already been in this underground facility. His hair didn't stand on end this time, but Steve could have sworn he saw Natasha sign herself out of the corner of his eyes.

"You're sure this is safe?" the redhead whispered as she edged closer to him.

Steve understood her fear since he hadn't fared much better the first time he had witnessed this ritual. Only his unwavering faith in Hermione had stopped him from throwing holy water at her.

"Certain," he replied, putting a hand on her shoulder to keep her steady. And stop her from interrupting the ritual. Just in case.

Suddenly a ghostly image superimposed on the derelict room, light spilling from non-existent lamps in the ceiling. A couple of men in white lab coats were bent over a man tied in the chair, one injecting him with something while the other checked his vitals. Steve held his breath, hoping and dreading to see Bucky lying there with equal measure, but when the doctors moved out of the way, their patient turned out to be a perfect stranger. Large, muscled, with a shaved head and a nose which had broken too often. Other guards stood around the room with the red Hydra insignia pinned to the lapel of their vests, looking on, tense, fingers on the trigger of their guns. They were obviously experimenting on the poor guy, but what were they expecting to happen from a simple injection?

He glanced at Hermione, but she seemed to be holding up much better than the last time, maybe because she wasn't as emotionally invested in this scene. She continued her chant, but gave him a small nod that she was fine when she felt his eyes on her.

"It's amazing," Natasha murmured beside him.

Steve didn't reply, unsure whether she was talking to herself, but he wholeheartedly agreed it was a very practical skill, despite not being so useful this time around. Even when the scene finally unfolded.

Their prisonnier suddenly howled in anger or pain, then went completely berserk, ripping out the restraints on his arms, then killing the doctor closest to him by bashing his head into the armrest. The guards began shooting, but the prisoner used the doctor as a meat shield before throwing him at the shooters, using the distraction to free himself from his other binds, then rolling out of the chair. He killed every single person in that room. Victorious, he stood behind that damn chair, panting and bloodied from head to foot. Then a light appeared on his forehead and he was shot, the ghostly image abruptly turning off.

"Ah," Hermione gasped out. "I guess it was his blood I used."

The air cleared and Hermione vanished all traces of her her summoning circle as she muttered about what a waste of time it had been.

"Not a waste of time," Natasha said with a dark look. "But not good news either."