Steve's blue eyes slid over the long table, looking at the elegant dishes and laughing people. He admired how exquisite everyone were, how much work had been put into this. He could hear the gentle sound of waves crashing into the sand, and the smell of salty water that hung in the air.

"Only Stark would be the one to order sushi to his own wedding," Sam muttered from next to Steve, having slightly loosened his tie after the ceremony. He was struggling with his chopsticks, his dark eyes solely focused on the mission of getting sushi. "Want some? Maki or Nigiri?"

The supersoldier leaned back, crossing his bulky arms as he looked at his friend. Sam smiled in satisfaction, only to blink in annoyance when the piece of Makini fell from his chopsticks, landing on the soft sand. "No, thanks Sam." the Falcon shrugged and tossed the chopsticks on the table, deciding to just use a fork.

"Don't you have something better to do? Like, I don't know, find Olaf." Sam muttered when Bucky took a seat next to Steve, making no sound as he tried to look as relaxed as possible. Steve gave Sam a pointed look, which, the man ignored. "You know, you sure are going to freeze these dishes if you keep staring at them like that, and that wedding photographer? yeah, I am pretty sure she ran off because you just glanced at her. Didn't Stark talk about this with you? Be loose, eat, drink, dance but no. You're like a bad smell always glaring and never going-" "Sam." "What?"

"I'm going to wring your neck if you don't shut up," Bucky muttered into his cup, taking a sip of his water. Steve sighed, shaking his head as Bucky and Sam started another banter, he honestly couldn't understand what was it with these two.

"Whatever, Old man, you're rusty anyways." Bucky tensed, his cold eyes meeting Sams for a second. The former United States Air Force pararescue airman stood up, mumbling under his breath that he needed to take a piss and then he was gone, leaving the two supersoldiers alone.

Steve watched keenly as Buckys hands were curled into fists, his chest wasn't moving and his blue eyes were glazed over. His stony eyes were staring the opposite table, or whatever was behind it. He was holding his breath, hoping the lack of oxygen would dull his senses.

Steve stood on guard, not moving a muscle as his baritone, quiet voice said his name.

Bucky released the armrest, not blinking as his eyes looked at the ruined chair. The small plates in his metal arm clinked as he slowly crossed his arms, gripping his biceps in frustration as he allowed piece of his dark hair fall over his steel eyes. He was trying to keep his hair out of his eyes these days, having realised having it fall like curtains over his face was a way of hiding himself.

But Bucky was trying to do better, was trying to be better.

So often, even if every cell in his body screamed at him to not do it, he got his hair out of his eyes, allowing more people to see his face.

Even if he could not face himself.

"Bucky." Steves tone was weary and with shame, the ex-assassin knew he had every right to be weary of him. And quilt seemed to cloud his mind as he glared at the wedding table that was filled with way too expensive china and even more luxurious food and drinks. Bucky did not like the luxury of modern world that he was now forced to live in. He felt out of place, no matter how much he tried. No matter how many mornings Natasha Romanoff tried to challenge the winter soldier, no matter how many times Steve tried to make him open up a little more and no matter how many times Sam tried to make him join one of his sessions, Bucky was still so utterly lost in this fragile, modern world.

He stood up silently, pushing the stool back a little as its legs sunk into the warm sand. "I'm going for a walk." he said, still feeling odd to be telling people what he was going to do, not the other way around. He sensed Steve placing his hands on the armrest, ready to stand up but Wanda was there to help Bucky escape the suffocating situation once again. As Bucky left, Wanda kept her tender hand on Steves tense shoulder, sitting down beside the worried man whose sad eyes followed Buckys disappearing figure. "Let him be for little while longer before you go to throttle him again, Rogers." the Sokovian beauty said, taking a sip of her non-alcoholic drink.

Steve sighed, sinking back into the chair with a heavy sigh. He was torn, because every time he thought he was getting better at helping Bucky, the man just relapsed again. But Steve would always be there to help him back up.

And he would always be there. Always.

"How do I help him, Wanda? He doesn't speak to me, not like he used to." there was tiredness in his voice, a piece of his blond hair brushing over his golden brow as he looked in the calm sea. Wanda slouched the sweet drink around in her glass, the setting sun shining against the sparkle on her pale dress. "To heal, one must face the demons that scarred them." she said, her accent not as strong as it used to be, yet it was there nevertheless.

"But those demons of his are not just there anymore, I fear... they are him." he said thoughtfully, his eyes flickering towards the dance floor as he heard Tonys loud shout at Peter to not touch the flowers.

Wanda sighed, her slender hand resting on Steves shoulder as she gently rubbed his stiff muscle under the silky white shirt. "Give him time. He is still adjusting even after all these months." Steve nodded, looking towards Sam symphatetically as he tried to ask Natasha to dance.

"I will, thanks Wanda." he smiled up at her, the sun making an orange and golden halo around her red hair. "Alright, now Rogers if you'll excuse me, I can feel my brother is about to do something stupid to try and shuffle Tonys features. How else to do it put steal the bride. ” a smile dragged on Steves lips as he watched Wanda walk off to scold Pietro.

Alone in the table, his eyes wandered over the tipsy people and their boisterous laughter, eyes landing on the figure sitting on the sand, away from everyone. He sighed and pushed himself up, heading down the beach to join his best mate and if possible, aid him with his foggy memories.

Bucky gritted his teeth as he heard Steve sit down, he didn't understand. At this point, Bucky wished that his memories were foggy, but they were clear, and filled with blood.

Bucky Barnes hated himself.

“How's it today?” Steve asked, eyes on the calm waves and the orange sun that almost blinded him as it reflected against the ocean. Bucky completely ignored his question. “I visited Rebecca's grave.” His eyes widened as he looked over to his best friend, Steve had not even known Buck had done research on her, Rebecca, his sister. “She had a child, and a husband. I'm a granduncle.” he said, and instead of the stoic expression, there was a small smile on Buckys face, he missed his sister, even though they had never been that close, Rebecca had still been his sister.

“Have you visited them?” Bucky scoffed and for the first time in five minutes, looked at Steve, bemusement visible in his tired eyes. “I'm a super assassin, Steve, I've been brainwashed, I've killed people younger than Rebeccas grandchild, I'm Winter Soldier. Do you really think if Becca was alive she would let me near her children? You may be fine with it, but they are civilians, a murderer should not be close to any child.” he said finally, looking back in the horizon.

“Bucky, you're not any of those things, okay? What was done to you is not on you” it's on me. He wanted to add, but he didn't. Not out loud at least. “I didn't tell you because I wanted to have this conversation all over again.” he muttered, sighing in defeat. Steve doesn't understand. Steve always tried to ease the guilt and tell Bucky he wasn't responsible for it all, but he was. It had been his hand that raised to slit those throats, it had been his hand that caused parents to bury their children and he had been the one to assassinate hundreds of people.

Buck's brows furrowed as he looked over to Steve curiously. “What about William?” is he alive? He was pretty young when war started, he could be alive if he was in good health, and what Bucky could recall was that the boy was by no means unhealthy, the bad genes had all been given to Steve on health department. He immediately noticed how tense Steve had become. He sighed, placing his metal arm on his friends shoulder, this time, trying to comfort him. “We can bring him flowers.” he said quietly, hating the sad puppy dog look in Steves eyes.

No matter how buff or bulky Steve was now or how many missions he had gone to, the sad look on his face always reminded Buck a puppy. “I don't know where he is.” he removed his hand from Steves shoulder, waiting patiently for him to continue because he had a feeling there was more to come. “He disappeared, I got a letter, before we came to get you from the... The alps.” his voice was quiet, and Bucky didn't interfere. Disappeared?

“Mrs Davis, the neighbour we used to have, sent me a letter, telling me Will had gone on a train to visit some relative I had never heard of. And that was the last anyone ever saw of him.” Steve was swimming in a pool of quilt and despair.

He knew he was, in a way, responsible for Williams disappearance. He had to be. Because everyone who is close to Steve, get hurt.

“Well, get up then, he might be old but he might be alive, you don't know what happened, I hate sitting around doing nothing, and you are just drowning in your guilt. Come on and let's start searching.” Steve looked up, wide-eyed at the fire that had started burning in Buckys eyes again. And the look on his face, it was almost the replica of the one he had left behind in World War II. He nodded and pushed himself up, ready to find out what exactly had happened to his brother.

“Before we leave, we should probably find Pepper and congratulate her.” Bucky looked over at Steve lazily as they made their way back near the party.

“Yeah, or ask her what the hell was she thinking marrying Tony.”

***
AND WE ARE ROLLIN'