Setting: after AOU

You glanced up at Wanda, gesturing with your hands as you spoke, "Bring it, Maximoff."

Wanda shook her head and chuckled at your confident smirk, "You might wish you had not have asked that, (Y/L/N)."

Steve simply folded his arms over his chest at the opposite side of the training room, an amused expression on his face. For some reason, he always enjoyed watching Wanda kick your ass, though she did it using her mind and psionics as opposed to your combat skills that Clint had taught you.

"Arrogance is a disadvantage in this job, (Y/N)." Steve chuckled, leaning his back against the wall.

You stood across from Wanda, knees bent and hands formed into fists in preparation, though you glanced over at Steve when he spoke.

"Tony seems to do just fine." You remarked, your eyes narrowing at him.

Unfortunately, his comment had only been a distraction, and Wanda reveled in the opportunity to attack your blind side. Before you could even register what was happening, a chair was flying across the room towards you.

"Heads up," Wanda chuckled, moving her hands in a graceful manner as you ducked to miss the chair.

Instead of hitting you, the chair slammed into the wall behind you, causing Steve to scrunch his face at the sound.

"Really, Wanda? A chair? I thought we agreed to go easy on each other." You said, your eyes wide as you looked at the broken chair on the floor and then Wanda.

The brunette simply shrugged, "I did not agree to anything." She pointed out, smoothing out her black skirt.

"Someone should probably go break the news to Tony." Steve piped up from the other side of the room, gaining both Wanda's and your attention.

"What news?" Wanda asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That someone murdered his chair." You shot a glare at Wanda, though you were only joking.

"In my defense, I am still learning to control my powers," she confessed, scratching the back of her neck.

"Knowing him, it was probably imported from some beautiful country and probably previously owned by royalty." Steve added, walking across the room towards you.

"Yeah, the beautiful country of IKEA." You rolled your eyes, picking up the remains of the chair.

"I've never heard of—"

"It's a store, Steve." You interrupted him, knowing exactly where he was going with that statement.

"A lot goes on when you are frozen in ice for seven decades." Wanda grinned, moving her hands, causing the pieces of the chair to float up out of your hands.

"Sure seems like it." Steve forced a chuckle, though you could tell the topic was still sensitive to discuss around him.

"Hey, Wanda, why don't you go find Vision? He probably needs some help learning to control that pretty little mind stone of his." You said, making excuses for Wanda to leave you alone with Steve.

It wasn't that you didn't want her around; you loved Wanda, and the two of you had become fairly good friends since she joined the team months ago. However, you knew Steve was unlikely to open up around her, still. After all, he had known you for two years, and he'd only known Wanda for two months.

"As if I know anything about self-control," Wanda sassed, referencing towards the chair she had completely obliterated just minutes ago. "But, I can take a hint." She said, releasing the pieces of the chair from the air as she stepped around you, walking to the door.

You shook your head and chuckled to yourself as she disappeared through the doorway. Turning to Steve, you noticed that he had already inched himself that much closer to you.

"We never have time to ourselves now that we're here all the time." You said, wrapping your arms around his neck.

After a year of falling for each other, Steve had finally asked you out 'officially' just weeks before the Ultron incident happened, and of course while all of that was going on, you two didn't exactly have time alone together. Not to mention, now that there was the new Avengers Facility, in addition to new Avengers, both of you spent a majority of your time training the newbies.

"Trust me, I've noticed." Steve sighed, his hands finding the small of your back.

You could tell what Wanda had said was bothering him, but you weren't sure if that was the only thing bothering him.

"What's wrong?" You asked, studying the tiredness of his eyes.

"Nothing."

"Steve."

"Nothi—"

"Steve, don't lie to me. Just tell me, what's wrong?" You arched an eyebrow as he looked down at his feet.

"I've just been thinking a lot lately." He admitted, looking up to meet your eyes again.

"So, this doesn't have anything to do with Wanda bringing up your past?" You asked, squeezing his shoulders lightly.

He chuckled, though it wasn't humorous, "This has everything to do with that."

"Hm," you nodded, "Bucky?"

The sad expression in his eyes and the way his face fell at your words told you that was exactly what was bothering him.

"There was nothing you could have done, Steve. It couldn't have been prevented. You can't keep—"

He shook his head almost immediately, not wanting to hear whatever it was you had to say, mostly because he had already heard you say it a hundred times before.

"You weren't there, (Y/N). You didn't see it happen. You didn't see how close I was to pulling him back into the train." His voice was hoarse, and his eyes squeezed shut as he replayed the memory in his mind.

"He isn't dead, though. You know that. He survived. He can still be saved." You said, watching his breakdown unfold before your eyes, your words powerless to help him keep the memories at bay.

"What happened to him—what Hydra did to him—if I would've just reached a little farther, I could have pulled him back in." He released you from his arms, taking a step back.

"Maybe, but there's nothing you can do about it now." You sighed, eyeing him carefully as he continued stepping away.

He looked up at you, his hand running over his face, "You're wrong."

You raised your brows, tilting your head sideways at him, "Steve—"

"He dragged me out."

"What?"

Steve let out a breath he'd been holding, his chest rising and falling slowly afterwards, "The Potomac. . .I didn't get out on my own; I was unconscious and I know who pulled me out of the water. It was Bucky."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" You asked; over a year had passed since Steve had been hospitalized, and he had never spoken of how he ended up on the banks of the Potomac.

Steve averted his eyes away from you, "I don't know."

"You don't know? That's all you have to say?"

He shrugged, the weight of his worries bearing down on him, yet he still wouldn't tell you how he was feeling. You knew what was bothering him, but he wouldn't tell you how much it bothered him or how he lay awake at night unable to sleep because of his memories.

He would never tell you how deeply it hurt him to even talk about his life before you were a part of it. He would never tell you that deep down, he was depressed. He put on a good show as the hero everyone wanted him to be, but really, he was in need of saving.

You took a step towards him, taking his hand in yours, "I'm here for you, okay? 'Til the end of the line."

His lips parted and his heart seemed to ache, though he just nodded, pulling you into his arms, his chin resting on the top of your head.

He would never tell you how much your words stung, nor would he ever tell you that they only brought back more memories that would continue to tear at his heart strings until he had his best friend back. He would not burden you with the pained stories of his past; instead, he would fight them off silently, trying to hold on to what little hope he had left after Bucky spared his life a year ago.