THIS IS THE FINAL CHAPTER OF TRIGGER.

(Don't forget to read the author's note at the end of the chapter.)

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в о з в р а щ е н и е   н а   р о д и н у

( homecoming )

"HERE'S HOW YOU rewrite a story."

Dakota paused, glancing down at her notes. Her loopy penmanship was readable but the sentences seemed to blur, the words distorting into a huge mess that seemed impossible to decipher. It didn't matter, though. It'd taken her so many rewrites that she practically had the message ingrained in her mind by now. So she took a deep breath and pushed the notes beneath the shelf of the podium, before bracing her arms on the top, meeting the gazes of her audience steadily.

"You start with a fresh perspective. You're still the protagonist, this new story's yours, but you're looking at the old story from a different angle now. That person who starred in your old story, that person you were – that person is but mere fragments of the story you're going to create. Never underestimate the importance of those fragments. All your monsters, all your ghosts, all your nightmares – "

His metal hand wrapped around her throat.

" – they're still going to be there. They're still going to feature in your new story. They're still going to haunt you." She continued quietly, filing away the memory that sprang to her mind for later. "But that's okay. A story needs antagonists. It needs you, the protagonist, to battle the antagonists. It needs multiple battles, multiple failures – "

His dark figure standing on the roof ready to run.

" – multiple victories. It needs you to invest every inch of emotion that you possess – all your happiness, sadness, anger, peace, frustration, patience – all of it and so much more, to create a multi-faceted protagonist that people will want to root for. It needs you to acknowledge your fears, it needs you to be courageous enough to want to fight those fears, and it needs determination for the long, exhausting journey that you're about to embark on – "

His terrified eyes after waking up from a nightmare.

" – but most of all – it just needs you." Dakota paused again, letting her words linger in the soft silence and letting her eyes linger on each one of her patients. There were so many of them. Scared, resigned, sad, tired. It should've felt overwhelming but somehow, the need to help them drowned out everything else.

The need to love him drowned out everything else.

The thought branded itself across her mind, but she was distracted when a movement at the back of the room caught her eye. She glanced over at the door, looking curiously at the two people who'd just stepped in. Sam's presence wasn't unexpected; he had, after all, been the one to assign her this batch of patients and the one who'd talked her into conducting a mass session in the first place.

The infamous Scott Lang, however, was a surprise. He was looking around with blatant interest and he grinned widely when he saw her standing at the podium. Dakota shot a brief smile their way and turned back to her audience.

"By being here today, you've already started to rewrite your story," She said quietly. "You're taking every past version of yourself and blending it together to form a narrative that is read in your perspective. Tomorrow, there'll be a new version of you and you will rewrite your story again in that new perspective. The day after, a week from now, a month from now, a year from now – that'll be no different. Because rewriting your story isn't about ignoring what you once wrote. It's about writing better versions of it, over and over and over again – "

And over, and over, and over – how many times had he been brainwashed? How many times had he tried to rewrite his own story, only to be forced to start from square one again when his memory was wiped?

" – until you can find a version that you know for sure is the story you want to tell," She finished, swallowing hard and wondering if anyone could hear the faint tremour in her voice. None of them seemed to, but Sam's gaze did seem to sharpen. Keeping her eyes averted from him, she smiled at the group. "Our next session will be at the same time next week and I hope to see as few of you as possible then." There were a couple of amused chuckles, along with several surprised stares, and her smile widened. "I'm just here for all of you for as long as you need me. But there'll come a time when you'll be okay, and when that happens, I'm just happy to know that you don't need me anymore."

She stepped off the podium, folding up her notes in a haphazard stack. That was her usual signal that the session was over and people began to get up, the room slowly but steadily emptying out. Dakota stuffed her notes into her bag and, after being waylaid by several of her patients and spending awhile talking to them individually, she finally made her way over to Scott, who was leaning against the door with his arms folded across his chest.

"Hey," She greeted, smiling brightly at him while casting an arbitrary glance over at Sam, who was holding a relatively serious conversation with one of the other patients. "What're you doing here?"

Scott's grin widened. "Well, you know. After a couple of beers with Wilson, you kind of start to spill your deepest, darkest secrets. Apparently, I have a problem."

"With...?

"Stealing," He shrugged. "Cap agreed. He suggested signing up for your one-to-one sessions, and I figured I'd ask if you were okay with it before actually stepping into class."

Dakota narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. "This wouldn't be the same as Wanda's I-wanna-have-sex-with-my-android-boyfriend-please-help-me or Natasha's gotta-get-some-girl-talk-to-flush-out-the-testosterone or Tony's I-love-the-sound-of-my-voice-so-much-I'm-gonna-pay-you-a-billion-dollars-to-listen-to-me-talk now, would it?"

The innocent expression on Scott's face was too good to be true. "I have pretty big issues for someone who can shrink so small. Ironic, isn't it?"

She stared at him for a few moments longer before finally caving. "Fine." She dug around in her bag and brought out her usual file, unclipping the pen attached to the side of it. "I'll schedule you for a session after Clint and before Rhodes on Wednesday. And your money isn't welcome here; I don't need to be paid to be the listening ear for the Avengers."

"Sweet." He straightened and pushed himself off the wall, digging into his leather jacket to pull on a pair of gloves that seemed vaguely familiar to her. Then he patted Sam on the back before nodding at her, swinging one strap of his bag over his shoulder. "Thanks, by the way."

She stared at the gloves, noticing the way he angled his hands to keep the telltale buttons and tubes hidden from the people around them. "Where're you going?"

"Gotta steal some shit," He admitted, his frank honesty making a bubble of laughter escape her lips as she shook her head at him. He stepped out of the room and offered her a brief salute over his shoulder. "See you on Wednesday, Dot."

Dakota watched in amusement as he headed down the corridor, disappearing after he took the nearest exit. She didn't realise that Sam had stepped up next to her until she felt his elbow nudge her arm. By then, the room was more or less emptied out, with the exception of a few people engaged in hushed conversations. Sam jerked his head towards the main exit and she followed him, quickening her strides to keep up with his longer ones.

"You know, once upon a time, I was your only patient," Sam mused. "I miss that."

"You mean those times when you asked me why I hadn't any dolls for you to re-enact your terrors of war, only when I got them for you, I later found you re-enacting scenes of Romeo and Juliet with said dolls? Oh, yeah, good times."

"Gone With The Wind!" Sam stared at her, appalled. "It was Gone With The Wind."

"Semantics. You were playing with dolls, Sam. You did the voices and everything."

"I was trying to let the lady at the administration desk know that I was sensitive soul."

It was bright out and Dakota had to squint when the sun caught her eyes, especially when she gazed up at Sam in confusion. "I thought you were trying to creep her out because you didn't like her giving you those come-hither looks."

"There were two ladies. I was trying to woo one, and creep the other out."

"Well, you succeeded in doing the exact opposite," She laughed when Sam shot her a half-hearted glare. His car was already parked in its usual spot and she waited patiently waited for him to unlock it. "But listen – I hear there's a new girl starting work at the front desk next week. Maybe you can try your luck then."

"You'll be my wingman?"

"Wingwoman. And no dolls."

"Why would I need dolls when I've got my bird?" He caught Dakota's strange look and rolled his eyes, even as he grinned wickedly. "Redwing." His eyes were glinting in mischief despite his attempt to correct himself. "I'm just going to show her my drone. Damn it, Dot, get your head out of the gutter."

"Get in the damn car, Sam."

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" – Sputnik's a one-time code to shut the Winter Soldier down. The government's still wondering if you had access to Hydra records – of course, Tony's got your back and arguing for your case, and we're still tracking down the rest of Hydra to set things straight. But T'Challa's hypothesizing that the one-time code reactivates itself every time Hydra rebooted the Winter Soldier. Bucky must've recalled it somehow and held onto it until the time came when he needed you to use it on him."

"So what now?"

"T'Challa doesn't think it's the best idea to wake him; because if we do, then he might still be in Soldier mode and Sputnik wouldn't work again this time until we wipe him – and he's not never going through that again. But Tony thinks he can find a way to treat Bucky while he's in cryo. Between him and T'Challa, I'm sure they can work out some form of treatment."

"Dot. Dot." Sam was nudging her as he drove with one hand. The grave blue eyes and sombre voice that belonged to Steve slowly faded as she turned to him, and she raised an eyebrow, only to have Sam shoot her a knowing look as he momentarily took his eyes off the road. "You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"Replaying the past," Sam said bluntly, never one to mince his words. "It's been three months. It's not a good thing you keep yourself adrift in stasis. Wasn't that one of the things you taught me not to do?"

"I did." She admitted simply, her lips tilting up in a faint smile when Sam stared pointedly at her. "But this is different. It's not like with my parents when I put my life on hold and wished with all my heart to reverse time. This is – this is missing him. I'm not stuck. But he's just never going to fade."

Sam was silent for awhile, and when he finally spoke, his voice was marginally quieter. "You ever blamed us for doing this to you?" He caught her confusion and hastened to explain himself. "For tangling you up in this mess. We were working outside the law after Sokovia and Steve and I just turned your life upside down in a single night. Got you on Hydra's radar. Put you at risk. Tossed him into your life despite knowing all along how dangerous he was."

Dakota stared at him in surprise for a second or two, before she relaxed, tipping her head back against the backrest. "You ever been in love, Sam?"

He shot her a wary look. "Are you going all Dr Phil on me again?"

"No," She laughed, before turning to the front and gazing out at the road ahead. They were driving through the familiar street towards the building she called home. She could see it in the distance. "I'm just saying that I don't blame either of you, because it was my choice to get involved in everything. And falling in love with him – how could I ever regret that?"

There was a grin on his face that dimmed slightly when he threw another glance at her. "I just want you to be happy, kid."

She simply offered him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes and turned back to stare out of the window.

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"You've got some new neighbours?"

Dakota shrugged at Sam's question and looked round the lobby in confusion. Furniture was stacked everywhere, making it almost impossible to navigate through to the elevators, save for the narrow path in between the boxes. Most of the furniture pieces were wrapped up and unpacked. Others were already assembled but stacked neatly in bubble-wrap.

Sam began popping the nearest wrap and Dakota hastily grabbed him by the sleeve of his shirt to haul him off. "Be good," She chided, tugging him into the elevator and hitting the button for her floor. "You can make a bad impression on them because you don't live in the same building as these new people, but I do."

"Killjoy," Sam mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the wall of the elevator. "Do you have any leftover pizza in your fridge?"

"Is that why you invited yourself over? I thought you were being gentlemanly and walking me back to my apartment," Dakota returned innocently, but she caught Sam's crestfallen face and smiled. "But yes, I saved three-quarters of a pizza for you. Your true intentions aren't that impossible to decipher."

"You just get me." Sam grinned and followed her out curiously when the doors of the elevator slid open at her floor. There was a row of furniture lining the walkway, several boxes sitting on the stairwell, and Dakota glanced over at the empty apartment on the right. The door was ajar, the place inside still dark. Sam turned to her. "Looks like your new neighbours live next door."

"Guess so." She shrugged and dug around in her bag for the key, slotting the metal key into the lock and twisting. She pushed the door open, only to freeze like a deer caught in headlights when she took in the sight in front of her. Sam was chuckling as he nudged her in and she stared blankly at everyone inside. "What in the world is happening?"

"Oh, good, Ms Summers." Vision was the first to greet her, and she jumped involuntarily when she saw him phase through the brand new shoe cupboard blocking the doorway. She was never going to get used to him doing that. He held a clipboard in his hand and smiled at her. "I was wondering if I could measure your height so that Barton could figure out how high the shelves ought to be positioned."

"I, um – " She stared at him, then at Sam – who was proving to be no help at all when it came to explanations, because he simply sniggered and sauntered off to the kitchen – before looking back at Vision. " – yeah, sure, I guess?"

"Excellent. Now hold still."

That wasn't a problem at all. Her feet felt rooted to the ground as she tried to make sense of what was happening in the empty place she called home. All her old furniture seemed to have disappeared, with a smattering of a few new ones in their place – a coffee table in the middle of the living room, a new bar countertop that Natasha was leaning against as she neatly arranged a series of champagne glasses on a tray, and a stack of unassembled shelf parts that Clint and Wanda were struggling with in the kitchen.

"Thank you," Vision nodded at her when he was done. "Now if you'll excuse me, I think Wilson requires my help before he nails his foot to the floor."

Dakota stared as she watched Vision leave, phasing again through the countertop past Natasha to get to Sam. Natasha noticed the look of bewilderment on her face and grinned. "Get your ass over here, Summers," She drawled, slicing several wedges of lime with skilled deftness. "Would you like frozen or on the rocks?"

"Er – anything's fine," She stammered, still trying and failing to make sense of the situation. Of course, her house had been more or less wrecked ever since Hydra infiltrated her place some months ago, but she'd been doing the clean up on her own, with several of the Avengers occasionally dropping by to give her a helping hand.

But this was a little bizarre.

Natasha's grin widened and she set about shaking a fresh mix of margarita before filling a glass to the brim and sticking a lime wedge in. "Maximoff, order's up!" She slid the glass across the counter with alarming speed, only to have a red sheen of light catch the glass from toppling right off just at the last second.

Wanda rolled her eyes and plucked the glass right out of mid-air, before heading across the room to place it neatly in Dakota's hands. "Drink up," Wanda told her kindly, with a smile. "You'll need it. It's little crazy today and it can only get worse from here."

"Hey, Dot?" Clint called her from the kitchen and she looked over at him. "Do you have any particular attachment to this old shelf here?" He tapped the old one next to the refrigerator.

"Well – no, it came with the apartment – " She trailed off when he simply raised a thumbs-up and proceeded to swing a hammer right at it. Wanda laughed and gestured for her to drink. Dakota took an absentminded sip of it, feeling a sharp jolt as the cool liquid trickle down her throat. She took several more sips before looking around weakly. "Can someone explain to me what's going on here?"

"We thought of revamping your apartment after Hydra tore it apart," Wanda smile widened. "Kind of like an apology, hopefully?"

"With Tony's money," Sam added, from the kitchen. He smirked when Dakota rolled her eyes at him, torn between amusement and annoyance that he'd known all this while and yet chosen to throw her in the midst of something entirely unexpected. "Surprise!"

"Yes, surprise indeed – "

A familiar voice sounded by the doorway and Dakota groaned quietly, the pieces finally falling into place. Yeah, everything made more sense now that the incorrigible Stark was around. She spun round, only to see Tony striding into the room with a brilliant smirk on his face. Rhodes was trailing after him, rolling his eyes behind his back and shooting Dakota a quick grin when he saw her.

" – you know, I hate to take credit where it's not due, but this brilliant surprise comes from yours truly," Tony said proudly. "It's my money, my idea – "

"My idea, you asshat," Natasha raised her knife threateningly at him.

" – my selection of top-grade furniture – "

"My selection!" Wanda stared at him in disgust.

" – and my tremendous, painstaking effort to assemble everything – "

"Our effort," Clint deadpanned, glaring at him with Sam and Vision by his side.

" – but the important thing is – oh, and hi, Polka-Dots, I was wondering when you'd show up," Tony greeted arbitrarily, patting her on the head twice before waving the file in his hand vigorously as he attempted to get everyone's attention. "The important thing is, I had a lovely, lovely talk with the building manager – who, by the way, is a ridiculously attractive older woman who really likes playing with my – "

"No," Rhodes jabbed a finger at him, a look of death on his face. "Don't finish that sentence!"

" – with my Iron-Man suit, what did you think I was going to say?" Tony insisted innocently, even though the others made loud, scoffing noises at that. "Anyway," He continued, wrapping an arm around Dakota's shoulder to lead her further into the house. "She and I got down to talking and she agreed on a settlement. Kind of like a down-payment, but I paid the sum in full, of course, because what's life as a billionaire without spending a little money?"

"Wait," Dakota stopped him, reaching around to pull his arm off her and staring up at him in alarm. "You bought an apartment here?"

"No, I bought the whole building," Tony's smirk widened when Dakota's mouth fell open. "I mean, this place has very few occupants and I'm sure I could reach some sort of agreement with them. And the building is frighteningly rundown but I'm supposing a couple of upgrades here and there might fix it – "

"Yes, it would," Vision interjected as he breezed past, phasing through yet another piece of furniture again as he recorded measurements around the room.

" – see? Trust the android, although he's been defiled by the Wicked Witch over here," Tony glared at Wanda, who simply smiled sweetly at him. "Once we get this place up and running, it should look as good as the Avengers headquarters, mark my words. Of course, I'm not going to expand it or anything, it's going to be a pretty discreet place – but look at the location! Harlem over there, and Hell's Kitchen – oh, and by the way, remind me to make an appointment one of these days with the Defenders so that I can get more intel from them. But I digress. Point is – this building is far out from the city but a safe place in the heart of all the meanest streets. It's the perfect bird's eye view for all of us."

"All of us?" Dakota echoed, feeling a little faint as she thought about the prospect of being neighbours with Tony Stark. She'd gotten more or less used to him by now, given that she had therapy sessions with him twice a week, sometimes three. But the idea of having him live in the same building as hers and hearing his obnoxious voice twenty-four-seven without a moment of peace was truly terrifying.

"It'll be a rest-stop for any of us should we require to work in this area," Rhodes assured her, the sympathetic look on his face making her realise that he knew exactly what she was worried about. "The Avengers headquarters is consistently monitored by the government and most of our homes are too far out when we need to be in town. This is a good change of pace. But that's for the rest of us. Sam and Steve have other ideas."

"Ah, yes, and here comes Muscles," Tony shifted aside when Steve stepped into the house, effortlessly carrying a table on his shoulders. "He's our delivery boy for moving day. Here, have a tip, sonny."

Steve threw Tony a dirty look when the latter waved a ten-dollar bill at him, but he took it all the same, crumpling it into a ball and tossing it to Natasha, who happily pocketed it. He set the dining table down near the kitchen before turning to Dakota and greeting her with a one-armed hug. "Sorry to spring this on you. The others figured it'd be a pleasant surprise, but by the look on your face, we should've talked this through, huh?"

"No, it's fine," Dakota hastily assured him, smiling when she saw how worried he looked. "Just promise me Tony wouldn't make me serve him pancakes in bed when he's staying in this building."

"I make no such promises," Tony scoffed, tossing the file at Rhodes as he made to head towards the counter. Natasha's eyes were already gleaming as she eyed Tony, no doubt thinking of some way to ruin his drink. But Tony paused on the way over, gripping Dakota's shoulder lightly as he lowered his head to speak into her ear. "I know that the landlady was planning to increase rent on this place," He said quietly, keeping his voice low enough so that no one else could hear. "And this apartment was the only thing your parents left you. Figured it'd be something you'd want to safe-keep."

Her eyes flickered to his and she saw not a single ounce of his usual cocky arrogance in his expression. She swallowed, smiling up at him as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. "I'll find a way to repay you – "

"It's all in the past." He reminded her, saying the words she'd said a long time ago, his lips quirking up in a hint of a smile that was nothing but sincere. "You listen to me ramble all the time in therapy. A safe haven for you in exchange for nights of dreamless sleep that I sorely need. Sounds like a fantastic deal to me."

He sauntered off, throwing her a quick, discreet wink over his shoulder before joining the others at the counter, where Wanda was now in charge of making the drinks. Dakota glanced up at Steve, who had remained by her side, and noticed how he was dressed in sweatpants and a plain shirt, unlike the rest of them. She narrowed her eyes at him for a brief moment and headed out of the house, pausing in front of the empty apartment opposite as he sidled up to her. The door of the other apartment was still ajar, boxes lining the doorway.

"This place," She started, quickly putting two and two together. Rhodes had, after all, implied that Steve and Sam had other plans. "It's yours now, isn't it?"

"And Sharon's, sometimes," Steve added, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks when she laughed. "And Sam called dibs on that one," He pointed to the apartment adjacent to theirs. The smile on his face faded as he looked at her. "You still miss him, don't you?"

"Everyday."

"Me too, kid." Steve let out a quiet sigh and leaned against the wall, his shoulders hunching with vague resignation. "He's the closest thing I have to family."

"The Avengers?"

"It's not the same. You know what I mean. You've got Sam and me and the rest of the Avengers as well, but you don't feel as safe with us as you do with him, do you?"

She nodded, ducking her head as her hair fell around her face to create some sort of shield to hide her from Steve's observant eyes. It was just as well, because the tears that sprung to her eyes and slid down her cheeks came just as quickly anyway.

But Steve noticed all the same and let out a soft laugh, taking two steps closer and pulling her towards him. "Come here," He wrapped his arms around her and held her steadily against his chest, chuckling when she hastily brushed the tears away to prevent them from staining his shirt. "Tony and T'Challa are doing all they can to make sure the side-effects of his treatment are kept to a minimum. He'll still remember you when it's over."

"He doesn't need to," She mumbled, her voice muffled against his chest, even as her heart seemed to tear at the fissures when she thought of Bucky never returning again. "I just want him to be safe. And happy."

"And he's neither of those without you. Bucky will find his way home to you, I promise."

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" – I mean, right now, I'd trade the whole superhero thing for a rocking chair and a subscription to Reader's Digest. You get what I mean?"

Dakota stifled a laugh and eased back against the wall after punching in the button for her floor in the elevator. She loved talking to this kid, but she swore he could talk a mile a minute, and sometimes she didn't know whether she wanted to hug or smack Tony for giving him her business card. And phone number. And address. She was almost certain he'd start inviting himself over for tea one of these days. Wouldn't be a surprise anyway. The rest of the Avengers did that all the time, and at any hour of the day, it seemed.

"Well, not exactly," She conceded at last, her phone still pressed to her ear. "I'm not a superhero, so I don't get that physical exhaustion thing. But yeah – I see where you're going with it being an endless job. Saving lives – that's got to be tiring at some point. Especially when everyone wants you to save their lives that no one seems to care about yours."

"Yes, exactly. See, this is why I love talking to you, Ms Summers. You actually get me. I tell Tony about these things and all he does is to give my suit an upgrade and poke a needle in me to see if he can replicate my spider-senses."

"Tony does that to everyone. I wouldn't take it personally if I were you, Peter."

"The other day, he took me out of class for – and I quote – an emergency; and all he did was to make me hang upside down from the ceiling for about an hour so that he could test the elasticity of my web. And just last month – "

Dakota tuned him out for a moment when the door across her apartment opened with a click. Steve was wearing a ratty old shirt and sweatpants, looking entirely dazed as he stared out at her. "Hey," He greeted, smiling when he saw her. "Just got back from work, huh?"

"Yeah." She held the phone away from her ear for a moment and eyed his outfit. Rumpled clothes, bed-hair, telltale marks dotting the slope of his neck. Her lips tilted up in a wicked smirk as she stared up at him. "Sharon in there?"

He flushed.

"Done with sex?"

He flushed harder.

"Good," She grinned, slyly swiping her thumb across the screen of her cell to speakerphone, before tossing it over to him. He barely caught it. "There's someone dying to speak with you."

"What – " He held her phone gingerly to his ear, his forehead creasing in confusion. "Hello?"

"Captain?" The voice was alert and tinged with thinly-veiled excitement. "Mr Captain – uh – Steve, um, Mr Rogers? Is that you?"

"Who is this?"

"Captain! Hi!" The voice shot up in volume by a notch and Steve winced, holding the phone at arm's length away from his ear, even as recognition filtered through his expression. "It's so great to hear from you again, I am such a big fan – "

The door across the hall clicked open and Sam stepped out with a peeved expression on his face, looking like he'd just rolled out of bed. He probably had. The Avengers had just returned from a quick assignment, and while Steve had clearly spent all day with Sharon corrupting the pillar of American patriotism and goodness that everyone thought he was, Sam probably spent all day in bed, sleeping his fatigue off.

"Who the hell is making that ungodly noise?" Sam growled, glaring at her phone like he wanted to throw it off the balcony.

Steve threw him an apologetic glance before tapping the call off speaker, and pressed the cell to his ear. "Yes, um – hi, could you just hold on for a second?" He held the phone away and lowered his voice to speak to Sam. "That kid from Queens."

"Spiderboy?" Sam grumbled, "Tell him that the Falcon says hi, and to never wake me up in the middle of my nap again or I'll sic Redwing on him – "

Steve exchanged an amused glance with Dakota. "Okay – "

" – and to join us for the next mission. We could use some extra help on the team, but only on the condition that he webs his damn mouth shut," Sam added firmly, before slamming the door shut behind him, presumably to get more rest.

Raising his eyebrows at Sam's abrupt departure, Steve turned back to Dakota, who simply grinned over her shoulder at him, while slotting her key into the lock of her door. "Have a great talk with Peter. And tell Sharon I said hi."

Much to her never-ending amusement, Steve flushed again and she laughed, twisting her key into the lock and pushing the door open. The place was dimmed, save for the unexpected flicker of light in the kitchen. She frowned and took a firm step inside, a nagging suspicion lingering at the back of her mind. Hadn't she turned off all the lights before leaving?

But the tall figure leaning against the counter with the familiar gleam of metal made her breath catch.

For one second, it felt like her heart had stopped beating. And when she threw a lost glance over her shoulder at Steve, the warm smile playing on his lips said it all. With her cell still pressed to his ear, he shot her a quick wink before closing his door with a firm click.

She turned back to the man standing in her living room, who had by now straightened and was watching her with an imperceptible expression in his eyes. The faint light overhead tinged his eyes that same shade of bluish-grey she remembered so well, only it was calm this time. Like all the storms had finally passed and all that was left was the calmest of seas, and he was the sailor who had finally returned home.

To her.

"Hi." Bucky was the first to break the silence. She caught the tremour in his voice, the faint scratchiness to it like he hadn't spoken in a long while.

She blinked and absentmindedly tugged the key out of the lock, shutting the door gently behind her before letting out a soft laugh. "Hi." She greeted, before pausing, staring up at him as she waited for him to make the next move. She'd pictured this more times than she could count. They'd met in winter, and it was summer now. He was finally here and she didn't quite know what to do, what else to say.

"I, um – " He swallowed and, under the light, she could see his hand shaking as he ran it haphazardly through his hair. Several locks of it fell back stubbornly into his eyes and her fingers itched to push it out of his face, just as she'd always wanted to. He reached for something behind on the counter, before crossing the room to hand it to her.

Up close, she could see the minute differences in him – the bags under his eyes were gone, so were the tired lines that had always seemed permanently etched into his forehead. His jaw was dotted with a faint five o'clock shadow and his metal arm seemed slightly different, his actions smoother, somehow.

But she froze when he placed a styrofoam cup in her hands, and when she met his gaze, his eyes were watching her carefully, a vague wariness in his otherwise calm expression. "I bought you coffee."

She grasped the cup tightly, unthinkingly drawing her tongue across to wet her lips as she tried but failed to think of an adequate response. She didn't miss the way he glanced down, his eyes tracing her movement with a familiar intensity, the grey in his irises darkening as he watched her. "Why?" She asked at last.

He frowned slightly, lowering his head as his metal fingers fidgeted by his side. "I was hoping you'd tell me," He admitted quietly, before raising his metal arm. It caught a glimpse of light and she shifted closer, squinting at the tiny words he'd written across his wrist.

- buy coffee

- call Steve

- find Dakota

A flicker of realisation swept through her and she suddenly remembered how she'd once told him to take her out for coffee someday. She couldn't believe he'd actually written it down so that he wouldn't forget. The thought of that made her heart clench. Memory was such a fallible thing to most people, but for him, it was something he constantly feared to lose in its entirety.

"Well," She started quietly, keeping her eyes fixed on the words, "Buying coffee is just another way of going on a date. But when did you write this?" She looked up at him, falling a step back when she suddenly realised how close she was. His frown deepened and he looked slightly crestfallen, but he didn't press, instead maintaining the distance between them and averting his eyes.

"I found it after waking up from cryo. The ink didn't fade in the ice. I think I must've written it before – everything."

"How much do you remember?" She asked, when he trailed off, looking so lost that she had to fight the urge to hug him. She didn't know if he wanted her to, he was standing so rigid and tense that it seemed like he was no longer comfortable around her.

His eyes flickered to hers. "I remember some. I remember – the stairwell. The roof. This place – " He glanced around, eyes landing on one furniture after another, confusion flitting across his face. " – this place is not the same – "

"It's been renovated," She explained quickly.

The confusion cleared rapidly and he nodded, a hint of confidence seeping into his voice as he seemed to remember more. "The café a couple of streets down from here. I remember that. Almost punched a waiter when I went to get the coffee earlier, but Sam stopped me." His lips tilted up in a fleeting smirk. "I remember Sam. And Steve. They brought me here." He shook his head, before locking his gaze on hers. "I remember you."

She stilled.

"I remember looking at you. A lot. You'd always be in the kitchen, there – " He pointed vaguely to the counter. " – cooking, or washing up, and you'd always be singing. You sang songs from the 1930s and 40s that even I didn't know. You like tea – two sugars, a spoonful of milk. I remember the way you like the cold because you'd steal one of mine or Sam's or Steve's jackets and sit near that windowsill over there with your research notes. I remember how you smile even at something that's not even remotely funny and I remember wanting to make you laugh because you were the only person who laughed like all was right with the world, but I hated myself for not knowing how to make you laugh because I lost that bit of me when I was stuck with Hydra."

His voice tightened at the memory and his fingers involuntarily tightened into fists.

"I remember being found again by Hydra. Zemo – " He spat the word out like the thought of the man physically sickened him. " – he put you in a room with me. I remember trying to kill you, and I'm sorry." The fire went out of his eyes and he looked at her, the expression on his face so broken that she felt her chest constrict. "I'm so sorry – "

"It's not your fault," She quickly assured him. "That wasn't you – "

" – but it was. It was, and wasn't me. All at once," The words rolled off his tongue like the memory was still fresh, and she froze when she realised he was repeating what she'd said to him a long time ago. "I remember trying to kill you so many times that I can barely keep count because it all crumbles into a blur, but I will never forget the way you looked at me like I was the epitome of all your fears; and still you didn't kill me even though I told you to, and why?" His eyes scanned her face like he was trying to siphon the answer from her expression alone. "Why did you keep wanting to get through to me even though I was completely gone by then? And why did you kiss me even though you knew very well that I could kill you with my bare hands right after? Why are you still standing here and not running away from me like normal people would when they encounter a monster?"

His questions weren't so much as demands as they were pleas, like he was begging her for an answer that she suspected he already knew, but just didn't dare to believe it himself. She took a deep breath and set the coffee down on the cabinet behind her. "Я тебя люблю." She said quietly, her lips tilting up in a faint smile when his eyes widened at her words. "That's what you told me before you turned back into the Winter Soldier. Do you remember?"

He shook his head.

"Did you mean it?"

He nodded.

"Then that's your answer," She said simply. "How could I kill you then when I felt the same way? And why would I leave you now if I feel the same way?"

He stood so still for a moment that she wondered if he hadn't heard her at all. But then he dragged in a sharp breath and shut his eyes. When he opened them, he looked terrified and hopeful all at once. "You love me?"

"I always have, James."

He let out a shuddering breath and she didn't even register him moving towards her until he'd eased her back against the wall, his strong arms wrapped so tightly around her waist like he never wanted her to leave his side again. "I love you too," He whispered, swallowing as he held her gaze for a moment before letting his eyes fall shut. He leaned in, his lips pressing gently against her forehead, before shifting down to the spot below her ear and the pulse point on her neck. She shivered. It was the three places he knew she'd always been fond of, and he'd remembered them perfectly. "So much," He added, his fingers tightening on her waist. "Never leave me. Even though I wouldn't blame you if you did."

"I'll make you a deal." She finally gave in to her impulses and reached up to push his hair out of his eyes. He opened his eyes then, his gaze fixed steadily on her as he tipped his forehead to rest against hers. "I'll never leave you for as long as you need me."

"I always will," He admitted. "There are things I don't remember about you. But there are other things I remember. I remember that this – " He took her hand and brought it up to his head, letting her fingers sift through his hair. " – is quiet now because you're here and all I can think about is you. This – " He held her other hand against his chest, and she could feel the erratic beats within. " – is still racing because of you and – " He leaned in, a soft smile playing on his lips when an involuntary shiver raced through her as she felt the length of him hard against her. " – I still want you. I still need you. So damned much. I remember perfectly how I feel about you."

She smiled, reaching up to slide her fingers across his cheeks, feeling the faint stubble beneath her palms. She pulled him close, brushing her lips softly against his and felt his arms tighten around her, before sliding up to map out the contours of her back as he captured her lips. She kissed him in a way that was familiar and unfamiliar all at once. It was an angle that fit them best, her tongue sliding across his lower lip and wrenching a low groan from him as his fingers dug into her hips. He let her in without hesitation, and she kissed him so thoroughly that he was breathless by the time she finally pulled back.

His eyes were the darkest intensity as he regarded her. "Help me to remember," He whispered at last, when he finally caught his breath, still holding her close to him so that there were no spaces between them. "I want to remember everything I forgot about you."

"Of course, моя любовь," She said softly, smiling when a flicker of recognition lit his eyes. "Where do you want me to begin?"

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ F I N ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

r e f e r e n c e s

Spiderman

The line that Peter Parker says is a direct reference what a line in comics, which goes something like, "right now, I'd trade the whole Spider-Man bit for a rocking chair and a subscription to Reader's Digest."

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A / N

...and that's a (re)wrap! Thank you all for your unwavering support and patience for this story. Trigger is one of my favourite stories I've ever written, and I'm very happy to have it back on Wattpad. Fun fact — did you know that this story was written in the least amount of time, i.e. two weeks? I had a blast writing it and I hope you've enjoyed reading it too.

What comes next? Well — DRACONIAN, for one. I still have the next twenty-five chapters to go, so I hope to see you there on the flipside. Chapters will once again be posted every Friday/Saturday (unless otherwise stated). SLOW DANCING will also be updated on a weekly basis (Wednesday). And I know it may not seem like I'm not posting anything new, but trust me when I say that I am always writing and I've many things in store for you.

 Also, based on requests, I finally have PINTEREST boards for my stories! I've posted those for Universe #4 (including huge huge spoilers for three unreleased fanfictions). So if you have Pinterest, feel free to add me @ hepburnetteswp. You can also find playlists for Universe #4 on SPOTIFY under hepburnettes.

Last but not least, just a quick question out of curiosity. Some of you may be aware of God of Mischief — a fanfiction centred around...well, do I even need to spell it out? I make absolutely no guarantees, but on the slightest chance that I may bring it back, would you be interested in reading it? Let me know if you are HERE!

And let me know if you have any further questions HERE! Thank you for being a part of this journey with me, and I hope to catch you guys on my other stories.

x Noelle