I read somewhere that the Avengers live in a place called Stark Tower. It's down in Midtown, Manhattan—not too far from my apartment. Steve's an Avenger, right? He must be in that tower. Still, I wasn't going to just waltz in. That would be too upfront. They would definitely recognize me and that would land my ass in jail—or worse.

So I did a little digging.

The payphone buzzes in my ear as it rings. I glance around, trying not to seem too suspicious. After a while, someone finally picks up.

"Hello, you've reached Stark Tower. How may I—" A woman begins speaking, but is abruptly cut off when the phone is taken from her.

I hear a bit of shuffling and inaudible grumbling before someone else starts talking.

"This is Tony Stark. Well, you already know who I am since you obviously called my tower. How in the world did you get this number? Only known associates have access to this line."

The name Stark brings back memories, but I can't dwell on them now. I knew what I was getting into the moment I dialed the number.

"Phone book." I answer.

He grumbles some more. "I could've sworn I had it removed... Jarvis!"

His voice becomes more distant, like he'd pulled his head away from the phone. I couldn't really make out what he was saying.

Something along the lines of  "I'll sue them if I have to!".

When he comes back, he sighs loudly into the phone.

"Sorry about that. Stupid companies, thinking they can just leak my number. Anyway, since you're here and it would be rude to hang up, why'd you call? And don't say you want an autograph. Cause I'm gonna give you more than just an autograph."

This guy talks too much. I guess everything I heard about him is true.

"I need to talk to Steve." I tell him.

"Steve... as in Steve Rogers? Did you really call me just to get ahold of Steve boring as hell Rogers? And here I thought I had loyal fans!"

"I'm not a fan."

"That's what they all say. You're all the same. A bit creepy, but the same." He snickers and pulls the phone away from his ear. "Hey Capsicle! I've got someone on the phone for you. Said they were a huge Captain America fan!"

I roll my eyes. What an insufferable person. He hasn't known Steve as long as I have. Hell, I was Steve's first fan!

There's more shuffling as the phone is exchanged and I can hear a brief muffled conversation take place before it went silent. My heart beat grew a little quicker as I started getting nervous.

I was about to talk to Steve. Like, really talk to Steve. I start to wonder if this was the right thing to do.

"Hey, Steve Rogers here. Sorry about him." Steve says. Hearing him talk on the phone was very different from listening to him on the news. "Who is this?"

I swallow the lump in my throat. "It's Bucky. Do you... remember me?"

I anxiously wait for a response, almost tempted to slam the phone down and forget about it altogether.

He goes silent for a moment.

"Bucky?" He speaks hesitantly, as if he was afraid it wasn't really me. "God.. it's been so long. I was worried about you. H-How have you been?"

"I've been alright." I lie. "I.. um... saw you on the news yesterday. Thought I'd try and find you."

"That's good, Buck. Yeah, they've got me all over the place. The entire world seems to think the Winter Soldier goes to their gym." He sighs softly and clears his throat. "It's good to hear from you."

"You too." I pause for a moment, pursing my lip. How can I make this less awkward? "Could we... meet somewhere?"

"Of course." He sounds delighted by the idea. "You busy at the moment?"

"No. Just standing in this phone booth talkin' to you." I say with a soft chuckle.

He chuckles as well and my heart flutters a bit. "Alright then. There's this cafe downtown, you may have heard of it—"

"The one with the giant coffee cup?"

"Hah, yeah! You been there before?"

"Only once."

"Do you need directions?"

"I'm okay. Besides, I'm running out of time on here. I'll see you in a few minutes."

"Alright Buck. See ya there."

"See ya."

As I return the payphone and step out of the booth, a sense of relief washes over me. It felt good talking to him again despite how awkward the conversation had been. I can't wait to catch up with him.

***

I got there before Steve did.

The cafe is crowded since it's so popular. The line nearly stretches out the door, and it's even more packed inside.

I decide to sit outside. Less people, less uncomfortable stares.

It isn't long before I see Steve parting his way through the crowded sidewalk. He had this grin on his face that just me feel so happy. Happy that he actually wanted to see me.

"Hey Buck." Steve greets me as he sits down. There's something in his eyes that I just can't figure out.

"Hey Stevie."

The nickname rolls off my tongue before I even realize it. That nickname was nearly as old as us, how did I remember it without even thinking?

I stare at him, gauging his reaction.

He looks taken aback, but pleasantly surprised. Chuckling softly, he leans back in his chair and eyes me curiously with those baby blues.

"Still remembering things?" He asks.

I nod sheepishly. "It's a work in progress. I haven't called you that in over... what, eighty years?"

"Ever since we were kids, yeah." He says. Then, his eyebrows furrow together as if he were deep in thought. "No, wait—you still called me that when we were in the army."

"Did I?" I question, both genuinely and playfully. "I can't remember."

"Yeah. I used to catch you mumbling it in your sleep." He reminisces, laughing a bit.

Steve's laugh is the sweetest sound I've ever heard.

I only grin and shake my head. It's my usual response to embarrassment.

The good kind, to be specific.

"How have you been doing? Y'know, having to be Captain America and all. A lot of people look up to you." I say.

Steve hums in agreement. "I suppose it's been the same as it always has, just different time periods. I still haven't gotten used to it." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, rust-colored notebook. "I've been writing things down. Mainly recommendations from friends, like movies and whatnot."

"Seems like a lot to take in." I say, studying the notebook before he put it away.

I remember my own notebook—or rather, my stash of notebooks—hidden away in my apartment for safekeeping. Usually I would bring one with me, but not today.

Guess I forgot.

"Nothing I can't handle." He snickers as he props his arm up on the back of the chair.

The moment is brief and we both grow silent soon afterwards. A troubled expression starts etching itself into his softened features.

He eventually sighs and glances away, staring at something off in the distance. "All those years I spent looking for you... only to find out you were right under my nose the entire time. I should've known."

My gaze softens and I fold my hands in my lap. My heart feels heavy.

"Steve, trust me.. I... I wanted to come out. I really did." I lower my head in shame. My long, unkempt hair dangles in strands alongside my face. "I was just so..."

"Scared. I know." He murmurs, turning his head back towards me. I can see the pain in his eyes. "The other guy—he isn't you. You had no control. I wish people would understand that, but they don't. It's all black and white for them." He clasps his hands together. "I can help you, Buck. I don't want you facing this alone. Not after..."

He winces, as if the words somehow caused him pain, and lets out a slow breath.

"I won't leave you again. I promise."

I slowly nod, pursing my lips together. I know he's plagued by nightmares of his own. The look on his face says it all. I had mixed emotions about all of this. I was happy to be with Steve again, angry that we had to deal with everything that was happening, and sad to see him in such pain.

I want to help, but I don't know how.

I feel so helpless.

After a moment of silence, Steve sighs and pushes himself up from his seat with a chuckle. "Come on. Let's go for a walk. It's a beautiful day, after all."

I hesitate before standing up. Steve hooks his arm around my shoulders just like I used to do to him and leads me out of the cafe courtyard.

I smile softly.

It feels good to be by his side again.