When we look back, and when we're old
We'll see your footprints next to mine along the road
And I don't know what the future holds
But as long as you're with me you're not alone, you'll never be

I wanna tell you what I feel and really mean it
I wanna shout it from the rooftops to the sky
'Cause if you ever need a friend you know I'll be it
From tonight until we see the end of time

- "End of Time" by K-391, Alan Walker, and Ahrix

Steve looked up from his book as Bucky entered the room. He brought the smell of shampoo with him as he tossed his clothes into the laundry basket and climbed into bed. Smiling, Steve put his book down and put an arm around Bucky, who curled up against his side. They sat in contented silence for a few minutes.

"Hey, Buck," Steve finally said. "Your birthday's next week, you know."

"Oh yeah," Bucky said slowly. "I...forgot."

Steve smiled. "We'll have to make it a big party to make up for not doing anything last year."

Bucky shrugged. "I don't care. Besides, you gave me that picture. You don't have to make up for anything."

Glancing over at the framed drawing he'd given Winter right before he'd taken off his mask, Steve remembered offering to share a birthday with him, since at the time he hadn't known he was Bucky. But this year, he wanted to make sure they celebrated his best friend properly.

"We don't have to make it too fancy if you don't want," Steve said, "but we are going to have cake and ice cream. I don't think Jake's ever tried them before, and he needs to know what a real birthday party is like."

A slow smile crossed Bucky's face. "Okay, when you put it like that..."

Satisfied, Steve grinned back at him. "Anything you want to do for your birthday? Besides cake and presents, I mean?"

Bucky thought for a moment or two, then his face fell. "Well...there is one thing..."

"What is it?"

Staring down at his hands, Bucky took a deep breath. "Gravestones. For...M-Mabel. And Eve and Grant. But also...for all the others. The ones...we never met."

Steve's heart clenched. "You want to do that for your birthday?"

Bucky's expression was almost apologetic as he looked up at him and nodded. "I just...want some closure. And I don't know that I could..." He bit his lip and ducked his head again, his voice lowering to a whisper. "How can I celebrate when they don't even have names?"

"Okay." Steve grasped Bucky's hand tightly. "We can do that. Just...it'll take a while to get the gravestones done. I'm not sure how long it takes, but...it might be several weeks. I don't know that we'd have time to get them here in time for your birthday."

With a weary sigh, Bucky rested his head on Steve's shoulder. "Fine. But could we...at least figure out what to put on them before my birthday?"

Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky and held him close. "Deal. For now, let's just come up with some names."

Bucky didn't want to get out of bed. He knew it was his birthday. He could hear people moving around out in the kitchen, and he knew that Sam was probably getting some blueberry pancakes and hot chocolate ready for him. He knew he should probably venture out and let them wish him a happy birthday. There might be a few awkward moments while he was the center of attention, but then it would be kind of nice. He could spend the day with Steve, Sam, and Jake.

But right now, he just wanted to stay curled under the covers. He rolled onto his other side, only to realize that Steve had somehow slipped out of bed without waking him. His heart sank. I wanted him to be here when I woke up. It's my birthday.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he shook his head and scolded himself sternly. Get a grip. He's probably just checking on Jake, or he went to the bathroom or something. He didn't know the exact minute you were going to wake up. What did you expect? The bed's still kind of warm. He hasn't been gone very long. He'll be back soon. Or, you know, you could stop being childish and just get up and look for him.

But it was so hard to find the energy. How had Steve gotten up so early? They'd stayed up late the night before, putting the final touches on their order for the gravestones. They'd talked over the names they'd picked out, debated how much they wanted to say on the gravestones, and...yes, they'd both shed a few tears. Finally placing that order had taken a weight off Bucky's shoulders, as if he'd been carrying those stones around all this time, and could finally put them down.

Still, the whole process was exhausting, both physically and emotionally. He just wanted to sleep for a year.

He'd almost drifted off again when the door opened and someone shuffled noisily into the room. "Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty," Steve chuckled, planting an obnoxiously loud kiss on Bucky's cheek.

Cracking an eye open, Bucky glared up at his best friend, who was grinning down at him. "'S my birthday," Bucky grumbled, pulling the covers over his head. "I can sleep in as long as I want."

"Is that so? All right, then, you leave me no choice!" Steve pounced on top of him, his fingers darting under the covers to jab at Bucky's sides.

Laughing helplessly, Bucky squirmed away from Steve's tickling fingers and tried to use the covers as a shield, but Steve was relentless. "Okay, okay, I'm up!" Bucky gasped, rolling over the side of the bed just to get away.

He half-expected Steve to continue the attack, but instead Steve just sat cross-legged on the foot of the bed, bouncing slightly like a little kid. "Come on," he said eagerly, patting the covers next to him. "Open your present now."

"All right already," Bucky grumbled, clambering up next to him and wiping tears of mirth away. "Let a guy catch his breath..."

Steve handed over a little box, babbling away about how he hadn't wrapped it because it had only just come in the mail, and how he'd been afraid it wouldn't get there in time because there had been some kind of mix-up about delivery or something...

Bucky had been expecting another drawing, since that was usually what Steve's presents consisted of. He'd been wondering if Steve would give him one of the quick sketches he'd done while trying to cheer Bucky up after his suicide attempt. Since Jake had entered the scene, there'd hardly been any time that Steve and Bucky were apart, so Bucky had wondered how Steve would manage to surprise him with anything this year.

But this was definitely a surprise.

Inside the little box, stuck into a piece of black velvet, were two matching rings. "Aren't you supposed to get down on one knee at this point?" Bucky quipped.

"Shut up," Steve said mildly, reaching out and grabbing one of the rings. "This one's mine," he said, sliding it onto the index finger of his left hand. "The other one is yours."

Bucky pulled out the other ring and turned it over in his hands, looking at it more closely. It was a plain band of some kind of silvery metal, lined with black on either side. The metal had been twisted on itself in one part, turning the ring into a Mobius strip. A symbol of infinity. Etched into the inside of the ring was a simple inscription: Brother, I am eternally yours.

He could feel Steve's gaze on him, anxiously awaiting his verdict. Bucky opened his mouth...but what could he say? There were no words that could adequately convey what was happening in his heart as he sat there staring at this ring. Such a small thing. And yet he felt as though he held the whole world in his palm.

So Bucky gave up, shut his mouth, and slid the ring onto his left index finger like Steve had. It fit perfectly, the colors of the ring complementing the metal of his finger like it had been designed with this ring in mind. Well...probably the other way around. Steve was an artist, after all. He had an eye for this sort of thing.

Bucky couldn't stop staring at the ring on his finger. "You know..." His voice died in his throat, and it took him several shaky breaths before he could get it under control again. "You know...what you're saying...with this?"

Steve scooted over to sit right next to him. "Only what I've always been saying."

Bucky ran a finger over the twisted bit of metal. "I'm with you to the end of the line?"

"And the line doesn't have an end," Steve added, a smile in his voice, "because the line's a circle."

Bucky turned and hugged Steve with all his might. Neither of them spoke a word or let go for a long, long time.

It was a good day. A good birthday. The best birthday he'd had in at least seventy years. And no, that wasn't saying very much, but Bucky wasn't taking it for granted.

For the most part, the day was filled with the same routines they'd held to since rescuing Jake. They still focused on various activities they could do with Jake to help him get used to normal life. But Sam made all of Bucky's favorite foods, and during Jake's nap, Steve stayed behind to spend time with Bucky.

That was all Bucky wanted from a birthday, really. He didn't need anything fancy, no parties or outings. He just wanted to spend time with the people he loved most.

And of course, any day that began with Steve telling him he'd love him forever was going to be a good day, no matter what else happened.

They saved cake and ice cream for after supper. After stuffing himself with honey-baked chicken, mashed potatoes, and roasted vegetables, Bucky wasn't sure he'd be able to fit in dessert as well. But then Sam brought out the two-layer chocolate cake that Jake had helped him decorate, and Bucky discovered he wasn't quite as full as he'd thought he was.

All of the Avengers who were still at the compound had gathered for this meal, which wasn't always the case. The room was crowded and full of chatter, but for the first time, Bucky didn't really mind being surrounded by so many people. Maybe he'd finally gotten used to them, or maybe it was just a result of being so warm and content all day long.

Jake, on the other hand, looked nervous. He shoveled food into his mouth with the same barely-contained desperation he usually did, having to be quietly reminded several times by Steve to slow down. Jake's eyes ceaselessly darted around the room, trying to take in everything at once. But there was so much to absorb—at least three conversations going on at any one time, and people getting up to help themselves to more food or drink.

There was little Bucky could do to help, though. These things just had to be endured, that was all. Maybe he could talk about it with Jake tomorrow, once the immediate anxiety had died down a little. At the very least, he could let Jake know that he wasn't the only one who sometimes found parties like this completely overwhelming.

When Sam lit the candles on the cake (two candles shaped like the number 9), Bucky found himself blushing, and he was glad when someone turned off the lights. It had been so long since anyone had given him a birthday cake and sung to him, he'd almost forgotten what to do.

He didn't know where to look with everyone watching him and singing, so he just fixed his eyes on the cake set in front of him, smiling awkwardly.

After a million years, the song was finally over. "Make a wish!" Steve called from across the table.

Bucky glanced up. The flickering candlelight made Steve's eyes glitter like stars as he smiled at him. So Bucky closed his eyes and said, "I wish everyone at this table has a birthday as happy as mine!"

He blew out the candles, everyone cheered, and they set to work cutting the cake and scooping ice cream. Bucky glanced over at Jake, smiling to see his expression of total consternation. Birthdays did have a lot of odd traditions, didn't they?

One of the best moments of the entire day was when Jake took his first bite of cake. His eyes popped open, and for a moment he just sat there, frozen with his cheeks bulging out and chocolate frosting rimming his mouth.

"You like it, buddy?" Steve asked with a chuckle.

Slowly, Jake nodded and continued chewing.

Bucky grinned. "Just wait till you try the ice cream."

Ironically, Jake took longer to finish his cake and ice cream than it had taken him to scarf down the rest of his meal. It was as if the flavors were so distracting, he'd forgotten to worry that someone might take his food away.

Bucky had assumed that marked the end of the party, but as soon as they'd cleared the dishes away, Sam produced a pile of presents and set them down in front of him. The presents were different shapes and sizes, with a colorful variety of wrapping paper. Bucky looked around in surprise at everyone's expectant smiles. "You all...got me presents?"

"That's usually what happens on a birthday, you know," Sam said, nudging him as he sat down again. "Go ahead, open 'em! Here, start with Vision's, since it's super obvious what he got you." Sam rolled his eyes at Vision, who looked a little sheepish.

Vision's present, apparently, was the one wrapped in brown paper and twine, in a shape that was obviously a mug. "You were supposed to leave it in the box!" Wanda giggled as Bucky unwrapped it. "That's the whole idea—so he can't tell what it is!"

Bucky raised an eyebrow when he unwrapped the mug. Written on it in a very plain font was Grandpa: The Man. The Myth. The Legend.

When he looked up, Vision immediately pointed at Sam. "He told me to get that for you!"

"Oof, way to throw me under the bus, dude!"

"Thank you," Bucky said, unable to hide a little smile. He supposed Vision probably didn't have much experience with gift-giving.

The next present he picked up was a squarish box wrapped a little sloppily, from Clint. When he ripped the wrapping paper off, he saw to his surprise another mug. This one was still in the box. One side read World's Okayest Grandpa with an arrow pointing to the other side, which bore the name Bobby.

Bucky held up the mug. "Bobby?" he demanded. "My name is Bucky!"

Clint shrugged. "Hey, Bucky's not that common of a name. That was as close as I could get!"

As he reached for the next present, the others' snickering made Bucky begin to suspect...

Yep. He was right. Rhodey had also given him a mug. This one said They call me Grandpa because Partner in Crime makes me sound like a bad influence.

"What is this, a potluck?" Bucky grumbled, reaching for Wanda's present next. It was very neatly wrapped—in fact, Bucky couldn't find any seams in the wrapping paper, so he had to just rip right through it. Sure enough, it was yet another mug, this one saying I never dreamed I would be a super cool Grandpa, but here I am killing it.

Everyone was laughing now. Bucky snatched up Natasha's present, which of course was another mug. Grumpa, it said. Like Grandpa, only grumpier.

"Really?" Bucky tried to look annoyed, but everyone was laughing too hard for him to keep a straight face for very long.

The only present that remained was Sam's, which was the largest of them all. Surely, such a large box would be something other than a mug, right?

But inside the large box was a smaller box, and in that box was a smaller box, wrapped up in duct tape that Bucky eventually had to cut through with his knife. And of course, in the smallest box was the sixth mug. This one said Grandpa, you've always been the cutest one in the family. Sincerely, The Gorgeous One

The smug look on Sam's face cracked him up. Bucky laughed helplessly in the middle of wrapping paper and grandpa mugs, until tears rolled down his cheeks. And that was one of the best presents he'd gotten all day.

Steve woke warm and contented, smiling when he became aware of Bucky curled tightly against his side like a cat. A very large cat with a metal hand closed around a fistful of Steve's shirt, holding him in place.

Watching Bucky smile and laugh as much as he had the day before made Steve happier than he had words to express. He hadn't seen Bucky so happy since...well, maybe not since he'd taken his mask off. It was such a relief to see that much joy in him again, after everything that had happened.

It renewed Steve's hope. It made him want to give Bucky even more opportunities to smile like he used to.

He looked at the ring on his left hand, resting on Bucky's shoulder. He looked at the ring on Bucky's hand, resting against his heart.

Heart full to bursting, he kissed Bucky on the forehead, holding him tight. He never wanted to let go.

"Y'okay, Stevie?" Bucky mumbled sleepily, his voice muffled in Steve's shirt.

"Yeah," Steve said hoarsely. "Why?"

"Heart's beating faster."

Steve smiled and swallowed the lump growing in his throat. "The better to love you with, pal."

"You're reading too many picture books."

With a chuckle, Steve rubbed Bucky's back, trying to soothe the muscles that he knew were usually stiff first thing in the morning. They lay there like that for uncounted minutes, watching the light slowly growing on the other side of the curtains.

Neither of them really wanted to move, but unfortunately they couldn't stay in bed all day. With a reluctant sigh, Bucky finally pushed himself up and headed for the bathroom, grumbling about too much cake and ice cream from the night before.

Yawning, Steve sat up and reached for his phone on the nightstand. He'd kept it off all day yesterday, not wanting anything to distract him from Bucky's birthday. Besides, everyone he'd want to talk to was there at the Avengers compound anyway.

Once he got through the loading screen, he saw to his surprise that he had ten missed calls. At first his mind jumped to Peggy, but then he recognized the phone number. Secretary Ross.

"Are you kidding me?" Steve groaned. He didn't bother listening to the voicemails Ross had left; he just deleted them. If it was so important, Ross could say it to his face. Over the past few weeks, Ross had continued to call him from time to time, but he never had anything new to say. He just kept on finding new ways of insinuating that Steve had bitten off more than he could chew when he'd taken Jake in. Steve had better things to do than listen to that crap.

A more pleasant surprise was a text from Wanda. The timestamp was 10:36 p.m., which was after they'd finished cleaning up and gone their separate ways for the night.

Hi Steve :) Whenever you have a minute, there's something I want to talk to you about.

Steve frowned at the message for a minute, wondering why she hadn't just said something in person the night before. Was it something private that she didn't want anyone else to overhear?

Curious, he headed down the hall to see if she was awake yet. It would probably be simpler to get this taken care of before he got Jake up. When he knocked softly on her door, she immediately called out, "Come in!"

Steve opened the door and found her sitting on her neatly-made bed, with a towel around her shoulders to let her freshly-washed hair dry. She was putting a fresh coat of dark red polish on her fingernails. The whole room was filled with the flowery scent of her shampoo and the sharp smell of nail polish.

"Hey, sorry," Steve said, hesitating in the doorway. "You said you wanted to talk about something, but I can come back later if..."

"No, no!" Wanda waved him inside, putting the cap back on the bottle of nail polish and blowing on her fingernails to dry them.

"So what's going on?" Steve asked, sitting on the edge of the bed next to her.

Wanda looked at him for a long moment. "Does the name Vino mean anything to you?"

Steve shook his head. "Should it?"

"Well...it's just that Jake kept thinking about someone called Vino last night..."

Steve tried not to sound too accusatory when he asked, "You were listening to his thoughts?"

Wanda moved her hand as if to tuck her hair behind her ear, then remembered her drying nails and stopped. "I...I try not to, you know," she said apologetically, "but he was thinking so loudly last night..."

"It's okay," Steve reassured her. He could only imagine how hard it would be to deal with the ability to read everyone's mind. It must be like trying not to eavesdrop on any conversations in a crowded room. Anyone would end up hearing at least a few words here and there. "What did you hear?"

"Mostly, it was something like 'Where is Vino?' or 'When is Vino going to come get me?'" She gave him a concerned frown. "Jake felt very frightened last night. I thought it was probably just because he wasn't used to everyone, but...I thought I should ask you. Just to make sure it's not...something to worry about."

Steve tried to remember if he'd read any mention of that name in the Hydra files, but it didn't sound familiar at all. Who could this Vino person be? Why was Jake worrying about him?

With an aggravated sigh, Steve leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "If only we still had the files, we could try looking him up..." He shook his head. "I guess I could try asking Jake directly..."

"There is another way," Wanda said slowly. She bit her lip when Steve looked up. "I could...look into his mind. While he's asleep. I could guide his dreams and see some of his memories."

Since most of what Wanda used her powers for these days was simple telekinesis, it was easy to forget sometimes what she had done with his mind before they'd become allies. She had dug down to the deepest part of his heart and crafted a chilling vision from his memories and his dreams. She'd shown all of them their worst fears. So it really shouldn't be surprising that she could dig through Jake's memories and find out who Vino was.

"It was just a suggestion," Wanda hastily said. "I completely understand if you don't want me looking through Jake's mind..."

"No, it's a good idea," Steve said thoughtfully. "It's almost certain that Vino has something to do with Hydra, and we need to know everything we can just in case. Can you do that—just look at his memories without putting anything into his head, and then tell me what you find?"

Wanda straightened a little. "I can do better than that. I can show you."

Wanda, who stood with one hand pressed flat against Jake's closed bedroom door, looked up at last. "He's entered REM sleep," she said softly. "He's starting to dream."

Drawing a steadying breath, Steve left Bucky on the couch and crossed the room to Wanda's side. The anticipation had been building all day, giving him ample time to worry over what could go wrong. Now that night had fallen at last and Jake was asleep, Steve could barely contain his anxiety. "This isn't going to...hurt him? Or traumatize him?" He'd asked the same question several times already, but it didn't hurt to double-check.

"No more than an ordinary memory," Wanda said patiently, as she'd explained before. "We're just going to be listening in, and if I need to, I'll nudge his mind to focus on Vino." She hesitated, picking at her newly-painted nails. "I understand if you don't want me to do this..."

"No, it's not that..." Steve put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Sorry. I do trust you, Wanda. Just...being an overprotective parent, I guess." He smiled half-heartedly.

Taking a deep breath, Wanda nodded. Her eyes sharpened, focusing on the task ahead. She directed Steve to sit on the floor with his back to the wall, just in case he lost his balance. Then she got into position, planting her feet and pressing her hand to the door again. She moved her fingers in complicated shapes, a red glow building up around them and shining from her eyes.

Steve glanced across the room at Bucky, who sat with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Instead of joining them in Jake's head, he'd offered to keep a lookout in case something happened and the others were too deep in the trance to do anything. Steve figured he probably wasn't too keen to get a first-hand look at a Hydra base again, either.

Bucky gave him a final reassuring nod, and then Wanda touched Steve's forehead with one finger. Immediately, Steve's vision blurred and shifted.

You are very small. You're running as fast as you can, on a treadmill that looms over you. You can barely reach the handrails on either side, so you don't bother. You just have to keep running, and make sure you don't lose your balance.

"Run!" yells a booming voice behind you. You can't look over your shoulder at him, but you don't need to. You know it's Yuri. Yuri is always the one who makes you run.

The short, barrel-chested man paces around to the front of the treadmill, stopping to leer down at you. "Run, run, little mousie!" he cackles. The harsh fluorescent light shines on his bald head and the thick ring on his finger as he reaches to press a button on the treadmill.

The belt starts moving even faster under your feet. You try to speed up, but you can't go any faster. You can hardly breathe.

"Faster!" Yuri laughs, pressing the button again. "Faster, you lazy slug!"

Your foot slips, and you land face-first on the treadmill, which shoots you backwards. You skid off, your cheek scraping against the rough treadmill belt before you can roll away.

Still laughing, Yuri shuts off the treadmill and clomps over to you. "Now, twenty-five push-ups!"

Your arms still ache from the fifty he made you do before the run. You gasp desperately for air as you roll onto your stomach and plant your hands on the floor. Trembling, you try to push your body up, but you can barely lift yourself at all.

"Do it!" Yuri screams. You can hear the shift in his voice from mocking laughter to rage. "Now!"

But even though you redouble your efforts, it's not enough. Before you have even the slightest chance to protect yourself, his foot slams into you. You cry out as pain explodes in your side.

You clamp your arms over the pain, trying to curl up around the burning sensation, but then thick fingers grip your hair and yank your head up. "Did I say you could stop?" Yuri screams in your ear. "Fifty push-ups, now!"

He slams your forehead to the floor again, in another burst of pain. He seems to like it, because he does it again. And again.

You can't see. Everything is white. Everything is pain. All you can taste is blood. Yuri's voice sounds...fuzzy.

Maybe he'll kill you this time. Does dying hurt? Will it hurt more than this? You don't want to hurt...

You blink, and slowly realize that your head isn't slamming against the concrete anymore. Your side is still burning, the fire snarling angrily every time you draw breath. Your head is pounding so hard. You just want to lie still and go to sleep.

But someone is yelling. Yuri, still telling you to do push-ups? No, that's a different voice...

You blink again, and realize you're staring at the heel of a boot a couple feet away. Those boots...that voice...

Forgetting how much it will hurt, you draw in a sharp breath. Vino!

Slowly, clutching the pain in your side, you roll over just enough to see what's going on. Yuri stands there scowling petulantly. Facing him is a tall man with broad shoulders and a dark red mark running up the side of his neck, shaped like a claw.

Vino. Vino is here.

"What were you thinking?" Vino is screaming at Yuri, spit flying. You've seen him angry before, but not like this. "You could have killed him! You could have given him brain damage! You're jeopardizing this entire project, you donkey-brained son of a—"

"You told me to discipline him," Yuri snaps, crossing his beefy arms over his chest. "He was disobeying."

"And how is he supposed to obey if your discipline turns him into a drooling idiot? I don't need sadists like you in my operation!"

"What, are you firing me?" Yuri snorts.

"No." Vino whips out a pistol.

BANG!

Yuri's heavy body falls to the ground with a sickening thud. Blood pours from a hole in his forehead, pooling around his body. His wide eyes look surprised, staring straight at you across the room...

With a jerk, Steve returned to himself. Dazed by the abrupt shift to his own consciousness, he had to blink hard and shake his head a few times before he realized why it had been so abrupt.

From behind the closed door, Jake was screaming.

Steve scrambled to his feet just as Bucky reached the door, throwing it open. He hurried into the room on Bucky's heels, flipping on the light. Jake sat bolt upright in bed, the scream dying on his lips as he shielded his eyes from the sudden glare.

"Jake, are you all right?" Steve demanded, rushing to his side. He started to reach for him, but stopped when Jake threw himself back against the headboard, staring around wildly through half-squinted eyes. Retreating half a step, Steve lowered his voice and said more gently, "Are you okay, buddy? Are you hurt?"

Jake hesitated, one hand dropping to his side. The same side that Yuri had kicked so viciously. The sensation flitted through the back of Steve's mind, and he winced despite himself. He'd probably broken a rib or two that day...

Though he still trembled all over, Jake slowly shook his head. "N-No, sir."

Hoping it would make him seem less threatening, Steve sank to one knee next to the bed. "Did you have a bad dream?"

A violent shudder ran through Jake's whole body, and Steve wished with all his heart that he could just hold his son until the nightmares went away. But he knew that even attempting such a thing would probably terrify Jake all over again.

"Vino?" Jake said tremulously, looking around with wide eyes as if expecting him to step out of the shadows at any moment. "Is...Vino coming?"

Steve thought of the man he'd seen through Jake's eyes, and for the first time made a conscious connection to a man he'd fought in the Hydra base. A man with a large birthmark on his neck, who had given the order to terminate them all. It took all his willpower not to let the anger show on his face.

"No, Jake," he said quietly. "You don't need to worry about Vino anymore. He's dead."

Jake froze, his eyes widening even further. "Dead?"

"That's right. So is everyone else who ever hurt you. No one's going to come after you now, Jake. You're safe here. I promise."

He could tell that Jake didn't know what to make of this. Freedom was a foreign concept to someone in his position. He must have been thinking this entire time that someone from Hydra would be chasing after them, to bring him back and continue his training.

"I'm the one who's taking care of you now," Steve murmured, looking earnestly into Jake's eyes. "And I'm not going to let anything like that happen to you ever again. It's all in the past now. Understand?"

Slowly, Jake nodded. He seemed a little calmer now, and at Steve's prompting, he lay back down. Steve tucked him in, turned on the language recording again, and whispered, "I love you, Jake."

He wished he could do more. He wished he could rock Jake to sleep. He wished he could erase every awful memory Jake had of the brutality he'd witnessed, and suffered, at Hydra's hands. He wished he could go back in time and keep it from ever happening in the first place.

But all he could do was turn out the lights, close the door, and leave Jake to hopefully get some sleep.

Bucky looked worried and Wanda looked sympathetic. "Thank you," Steve murmured to her.

Wanda hugged herself. "Maybe we shouldn't have done that..."

"No...at least we know a little more now. But...I don't think we should do this again. It's not worth it."

Wanda nodded her agreement. Heaving a deep sigh, she bid them both a good night and left them alone.

"So...did you find out who Vino is?" Bucky asked.

Steve had forgotten for a moment that Bucky hadn't seen what he and Wanda had. And, upon further reflection, that was probably a good thing. "Here," he said heavily, leading the way to their room, "I'll tell you everything."

Because your steadfast love is better than life,
my lips will praise you.
So I will bless you as long as I live.

- Psalm 63:3-4