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Setting: TWS AU

"You're sure it was him?" Natasha asked, propping her elbows up on the table as she watched Steve closely.

You eyed her movements as she spoke, jealousy forming in the pit of your stomach. You knew there was something going on between Nat and Steve; you could see the struggle behind each pairs of eyes as they tried to hide their feelings for each other. You had noticed several months ago, only you had neglected to confront either about it. You couldn't bring yourself to actually hear the truth.

You'd been hopelessly in love with Steve for nearly a year, only you had never told him. You hadn't told anyone. It never seemed like the right time and your nerves were always so worked up around him that there was no possibility of you ever telling him without some sort of sign that he felt the same.

"It was him," Steve said firmly as he stood up from the table, glancing at you with sad eyes.

Your heart skipped a beat; the pain you could see in his eyes wasn't because he was hiding feelings for Natasha—it was present because of his best friend.

"If he's with Hydra. . .he's the enemy," Natasha stated, her voice slightly sympathetic.

"He's not our enemy, Romanoff." Steve replied, pacing back and forth at the opposite end of the table.

"He's an assassin."

"So are you." Steve's lips pursed as he stopped and glared at her.

"My slate's cleaner than his, Rogers. I'm not working for the bad guys here." The red head frowned.

"Yes you are. We have been for a while now," you interrupted their conversation, reminding them that you were still there.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. is compromised." Steve sighed out, nearly forgetting the recently discovered news.

"And Fury's—"

"Dead." You interrupted Natasha, standing up from the table.

"Right. . .but we can't just go looking for The Winter Soldier and expect him to remember who you are by having a drink and talking it out. He's not your friend anymore." Natasha frowned, feeling like the only logical person in the room.

"He was once, though." Steve reminded her, though it was impossible to forget.

"If anyone can bring him back—Bucky—it's gonna be Steve." You pointed out, walking towards the door leading to the hallway.

"Where are you going, (Y/L/N)? We haven't finished making a game plan." The red head watched you walk across the room, your hands balled up into fists.

You shook your head, turning around, "A game plan? It's Bucky we're talking about here. There's no way in hell we're making a plan to take him out."

"So what? We just let him kill more for Hydra?" Natasha snapped back.

"Of course not. But we can get ahold of him—Stark could probably help us get Bucky back and reverse whatever psychological mess Hydra created." Steve said firmly, his eyes on you.

You nodded in agreement, "Sounds like a good plan to me."

"Don't get your hopes up when he tries to kill you, Rogers. Again." Natasha frowned.

"Shut up, Nat." Steve said under his breath, surprising you.

It was never in his nature to be rude with anyone, but Natasha had pushed him to that point. You knew better than anyone that when it came to Bucky, you had to walk on eggshells around Steve.

"Wait up," Steve called out as you pushed the door open and headed down the hallway to the training room, fed up with the whole conversation.

You stopped and waited for him to jog to catch up with you, "You okay?" You asked him, genuinely concerned about his emotional state about discovering that his old best friend was indeed the Winter Soldier.

Steve nodded as you two walked side by side into the training center, his blue hues fixated on the floor. You watched him take his place at one of the punching bags, whereas you picked another to hit. Your eyes flickered between the bag and Steve as you threw punches.

A few minutes later, Steve was going to town punching the bag. His punches only slowed once you noticed the tears brimming in his eyes. Steve finally let his fists fall at his side as he shook his head, "No. No. No." He choked out, answering your question from earlier. "I'm not okay, (Y/N)."

You stopped hitting your bag, too, and padded across the mat to him. Your hands reached out and rubbed his shoulders before pulling him into a tight hug, "You're okay, Steve. We will get Bucky back."

Steve nodded, letting his face bury into the crook of your neck as he clutched the back of your shirt with his fist, holding you flush against him, "Thank you."

"No need to thank me; when you love someone you're supposed to be there for that person, right?" You asked while patting his back, not realizing at first what you'd said.

". . .when what. . . ?" Steve asked, pulling his face away from your neck slowly to face you.

"What?" You replied, your voice went dry.

Steve stared at you for a moment, looking at you in a way that he never had before. It was like he was completely shocked—stunned by the fact that you had just said that. You loved him, it was never something you doubted. However, you had never intended on telling him either, yet you'd just let it slip out.

"You just said 'when you love someone. . .'" Steve breathed out, looking right at you with no means of looking away.

"I mean," you hesitated, stunning over your words, "I love our team."

Steve stared for a few more minutes before his eyes tore away from yours, releasing you from his arms. The air felt colder as he let go of you.

"Right," Steve nodded, letting the topic go.

You blew it. You had just jeopardized your whole friendship—and any chance of it being anything more—all because you got caught up in the moment and spoke before thinking. All because you got caught up in the moment while in his arms, his face buried in your neck as if he just needed to make sure you weren't going anywhere—something you'd always wanted him to do.

"Steve," you started, unsure of what else you could say after that. "I love our team—"

"You just said that," he said, throwing a punch at his punching bag.

You exhaled, nodding with your hands shaking at your sides. You'd always been a brace fighter, but when it came to Steve, you were spineless. It was hard to tell him how you really felt.

"I actually," you could feel your lungs screaming for oxygen; you were holding your breath at this point, "I do love the team, but I also love you."

Steve's body went stuff and his fists fell from the bag as he stared at it. You meant it. Every word. And he had heard you, yet when he finally turned his eyes to you, you were sure whatever he was about to say was going to destroy you.

As he parted his lips to say something back, the training room doors opened and Natasha was revealed in the entry way.

"Wilson has a lead on the Winter—Bucky." She said, watching you two suspiciously.

You could feel your face burning and the butterflies in your stomach were flying free.

"Okay," Steve nodded, his eyes leaving yours and meeting Natasha's.

"Suit up," she said, turning away from the room and disappearing out of the door way.

"Steve," you said, not wanting to leave the conversation in the air—not when you'd just poured your heart out.

"Suit up," he repeated, his voice wavering.

And that was that; you knew you weren't getting an answer. You knew your words were going to go unheard, even though he'd actually understood you clearly. You weren't sure if it had anything to do with Natasha, or just you, but either way it still hurt like hell to know that the man you loved would never love you back.