"When all else fails, kill it with fire." –Carry Correia

***

             With an hour left until they reach home, Bucky and Steve have run out of interesting topics. They've talked about everything from Peggy to their choice of weapon. Steve can't believe how much better he feels, and all he did was talk to somebody about all of his emotions. It's like magic.

            Bucky checks on Harley, who is breathing steadily now, but still not at her normal body temperature. He finds this strange; you'd think someone who is practically made out of the sun would be able to take a little chill, but then he reminds himself that she was in the water the longest out of the three of them, and when you spray a fire with water, it goes out.

            "Is Harley doing okay?" Steve asks as they redress.

            "I think we should take her to a hospital," Bucky says. "She's not awake yet, and I want to make sure she recovers entirely."

            "Good call." Steve ties his shoes. "I'm going to talk to Sam. I just called him. If you want, you can come to make sure I go through with it."

            Bucky shakes his head. "I trust you."

            The plane lands safely and is parked by S.H.I.E.L.D. workers. The hospital is only a short distance away. Bucky explains what happened (he might've twisted the story a little bit). The doctor says that it's only mild hypothermia, and that she should recover by nightfall.

            "Aren't you going to Sam's?" Bucky asks as they sit by Harley's bed.

            "Yeah, but I thought I should stay with you guys for a while," Steve says. "I want to make sure she's okay."

            "She is okay," Bucky says. "Go to Sam's. I'll be here. Your health is important, too, you know."

            "Thanks, Buck," Steve responds.

            "I'll call you when she wakes up."

            Steve nods. After hugging once more, Steve departs. Looking out the window down at the parking lot, Bucky sees him get in Natasha's Corvette and speed off. He lets out the breath he was holding. Steve's in safe hands. He's safe. That's all he ever wanted. He calls Sam, though, to make sure he's home, and reminds him that Steve is coming over to talk. Sam sounds relieved. Bucky thanks him before hanging up.

            For some reason, he feels tears glaze over his eyes. It could be the fact that Steve almost killed himself, it could be the fact that Steve even had a mentality like that. Maybe it's because it finally feels like everything is going to be alright.

            "James?" he hears from behind him.

            Bucky tears his gaze from the window. Harley is sitting up with her knees pulled up to her chest. He wonders how long she's been awake. "Hey," he says softly. "How are you feeling?"

            Harley shrugs. "I'm cold. Are you okay? What happened? Where's Steve? Is he okay?"

            "He's perfect," Bucky assures her. "He's going to Sam's right now. He's with Natasha."

            "Thank God," she mutters, rubbing her eyes with a sigh. 

            Bucky slouches, feeling the events of the day taking a toll on his energy. He runs a hand through his hair. "We can't catch a break, can we Harls?"

            Harley clutches his arm and leans her head on his shoulder. "Life is tough, darling, but so are you." She kisses his cheek. "Can we go home?"

            Bucky goes through the discharging process once the doctor gives her the clear and an hour or so later, after sparsely avoiding questions from the doctor on how Harley recovered so fast, they're head back to their apartment. Bucky calls Steve as they leave, who promises to be home later. Bucky told him to take his time. You can't rush recovery.

***

            "Do I wanna know?" Natasha ask as Steve shuts the door.

            "You really don't," Steve answers. "I'll tell you someday." He knows he could never get away with never telling her. She'll find out. She always finds out. Kind of like Baskin-Robbins. 

            "Where to?" She pulls out onto the main road.

            "Do you know where Sam is currently?"

            Natasha glances at him sideways. "He was at his house last time I talked to him."

            "Would you mind dropping me there? I need to catch up with him."

            "Sure." Sam's place isn't far.

            "Thanks, Nat," Steve says as they pull up. "I promise I'll explain everything later."

            Natasha just nods, her expression slightly concerned and a lot confused. Steve jogs up to Sam's door and knocks. He hates to bother him, but he promised Bucky and also himself that he'd put an end to this; he needs this. And who better to go to than a friend?

            Sam opens the door after a minute and smiles broadly.

            "Hey, Steve! C'mon in." He extends the door to let him inside. "What's going on?" 

            "Do you have time to talk?" Steve asks. "I mean, like, a 'give me advice on how to move on from the past' talk?"

            Sam clamps him on the shoulder. "Anything for you."

***

            When Steve arrives at Bucky and Harley's apartment later that night, he feels so much different than he has in the past few months. His whole body feels different, like a weight is off his chest. He feels light.

            Sam and he had talked for a little over three hours. Steve never realized how relieving it can be to just talk. When he reminisced with Bucky on the jet, it made him feel so much better. And talking to Sam was like a bonus. Sam made Steve promise to talk to him at least twice a week about whatever was bothering him.

            "Think of me as a therapist you don't have to pay," Sam had said.

            "I have to pay you back somehow," Steve argued.

            "How about jogging together?" Sam suggested. "And that means you can't go ahead of me." Steve agreed full heartedly.

            Steve knocks at the door, hoping they're still awake given that it's almost two in the morning.

            "Steve!" Bucky greets him warmly, nearly tackling him into a hug.

            "Hey!"

            "How was Sam's?" Bucky asks as they take a seat at the kitchen table with Harley, who appears to be ablaze again.

            "Great, oh, I can't even begin to explain how good it felt to just let it out," Steve says. "I'm so glad you guys were there. As soon as I jumped in, I didn't want to go back anymore. I belong here."

            "Damn right you do," Harley mutters. "Steve, I know you feel awesome now, but I just want to warn you that you're going to have bad days where your PTSD and depression act up again. Don't be discouraged. It happens. You can take medication if you want, but you don't have to. It might help with the days you don't feel so great, though."

            Steve nods. "Sam mentioned that. I'll think about it. Look, I just wanted to thank you guys for being there for me through this whole mess. I know I hurt you physically and mentally, and I can't exemplify how unbelievably sorry I am for everything."

            "We forgive you, Steve," Bucky says.

            "I still can't believe I punched you guys," he admits in a small, quiet voice.

            "Steve, we forgive you," Harley repeats with more vigor. "Just never do it again."

            "Hell no," Steve says.

            "Language," Bucky snaps sarcastically.

            "Shut up," Steve says with a chuckle. "I'm going to bed. See you guys tomorrow for breakfast at my place?"

            "Sounds great." They follow him to the door, each giving him another tight hug before he leaves.

           Everything is going to be alright.