Chapter Text
November in Poland was unexpectedly cold this year, and the first snow had hit early. Steve shivered slightly in his thick leather jacket, digging through the file cabinets coated with nearly a century of dust.
Even if HYDRA had been relatively quiet, he still wasn't ready to let his guard down. Anyone else would have said the Ultron incident and the twins was a coincidence. And while Steve admitted it could have been, he had seen and heard too much to dismiss it entirely. He'd lost too much the first time around.
It won't happen again.
He pulled a few files from the drawer and set his flashlight on top of the cabinet, brushing off the dust and gingerly opening the folder. Black-and-white photos, various handscrawled notes in German and Russian--chemicals, judging by the small amount of Russian he knew--not uncommon for a long-abandoned base in the Carpathian range. Still, without a better translator, he had no idea if anything useful would turn up from the file.
There was a louder rustling from the other room, and Steve hurriedly stuffed the files into his well-loved canvas bag. Bucky leaned his head into the room, shooting Steve a look that said he knew exactly what he was up to. "Find anything?" he asked unnecessarily.
"Maybe." Steve latched the bag. "You?"
Bucky rolled his eyes. "A cache of Stark Industries missiles."
Steve's eyebrows shot up. "Wow. They were here later than I thought. Tony's had 'em out of circulation for a number of years now."
"Doesn't stop them from buying 'em during the Cold War or later." Bucky pointed out. He sighed. "Sometimes I don't know what to make of that guy."
"Tony means well, Buck. You know that. Deep down, he'll always do the right thing."
"Mmm." Bucky wasn't outright declining, but wasn't agreeing, either. Steve understood how, after all he'd been through, he would doubt people's intentions. It was a difficulty he himself had, one he was trying to overcome.
"Wonder if we should take them with us?"
"Kinda hard to sneak those past airport security, punk," Bucky sighed.
"Oh. Right," Steve admitted sheepishly. "Guess it really is time to head back."
Bucky sighed again. It was becoming a habit with him. Steve didn't blame him, though. They were both tired. It had been a long several months on the road and undercover, and he could tell that it had reopened some old wounds and problems in his best friend.
But they were both here, and alive in 2017, and they had a home to go back to.
As far as Steve was concerned, that alone made them ahead of the game.
He and Bucky stepped out into the cold air, both of them drawing their coats tighter as they hurried towards the beater compact Steve had bought for a song off a guy who apparently collected mediocre old cars. Snow lightly fluttered to the ground around them. It was early, maybe 5:40 judging by the light, and all was quiet and calm.
The atmosphere was oddly bipolar to Steve, as he felt peaceful from the beautiful surroundings and having Bucky beside him, and angry and fearful at what had once been done here. He glanced over at his friend to see him taking in the morning as well, with an unreadable expression. It still hurt that he couldn't always tell what he was thinking anymore.
Steve dusted some of the snow off the roof of the car, sliding into the driver's seat and unlocking the door. Bucky clambered into the shotgun seat and promptly curled up under a fleece throw that had been sitting around. Steve reached over and flicked the vent towards him.
Bucky glanced at him, long-sufferingly, but with a touch of fondness. He bumped Steve's shoulder with his own, and then turned and laid his forehead against the glass. Steve grinned, and felt lighter than he had in months as they drove through the slowly-waking village.
***
The stewardess at the airport smiled at them when they handed her their passports. "Headed home for the holidays?" she asked brightly, in only slightly accented English.
Steve glanced at Bucky in confusion, and his friend rolled his eyes. "It's November 22, Steve."
"Oh! Oh, Thanksgiving," he said, turning back to the girl. "Yeah, I guess we sort of are."
She handed the booklets back and smiled. "Enjoy your flight."
They thanked her, and headed with the bunch of other passengers towards the gates.
"Come to think of it, where are we going when we get back?" Bucky asked quietly when most of the crowd was some distance away.
"Don't really know," Steve shrugged. "I still have my apartment, but I was barely ever there even before. It's probably kinda lonely. We could head back to the Tower...if you want to keep sticking around with me, that is..."
Bucky sighed. "Exactly where else would I go, Rogers?" But he nudged him playfully.
***
From the airport, they headed onto the subway into Manhattan. Steve felt more secure being back in New York. It was interesting to travel, even when dealing with HYDRA, but there was no place like home.
He pulled his sketchbook from the satchel with a pencil, and began sketching the girl sitting across from him. The train stopped to switch passengers, so he wasn't startled when someone sat down on his left.
He was when they nudged his knee with theirs.
"Hey, stranger," a familiar voice said. He turned to see Natasha, dressed as an average hostess or secretary commonly seen headed to Manhattan. Her hair was wavy again--and black--a startling contrast from her usual bright red locks.
"Hi yourself," he said with an easy smile. "What's with the...eh, getup?"
"If I told you, I'd have to kill you." She smiled warmly. "James," she smiled at Bucky. He gave her a shy grin back.
Steve wasn't sure what to make of them. A while back, he'd thought they were an item. Then again, he'd thought Clint and Nat were an item, which was rather embarrassing when they found out. Tony still joked about 'shipping them.'
Steve supposed that the way they'd acted was friendship. It was one thing about the future that kind of drove him nuts...they always saw attraction where there was none.
"In here by coincidence?" He finally asked.
"Nah. Headed back to 'the Batcave.'" Stark really has a chip in his shoulder," she lightly laughed. "Anything interesting on you boys' end?"
Bucky shrugged on his other side. "Headshrink files and instructions. Chemicals and explosives. Torture chambers. You know. The usual." Natasha nodded with a bit of a snort.
"Wonder who all'll be there?" Steve said.
"Clint just got in from the farm. Tony's been living in the Tower since September. Bruce got back from another trip to India last month, and has been there since. Thor, so far as I know, is still in London. Peter and Gamora went on a cross-country trip a while ago--I gathered Peter wanted to show her where he grew up. Groot, Rocket and Drax hung around Tony since then."
"Huh. So it seems like the whole gang'll be back together."
"Guess so."
"Is...that a problem?" Steve asked hesitantly.
Natasha shook her head with a slight, but warm smile. "No," she said softly. "Not at all."