Disclaimer: I own nothing Captain America-related…though I might consider asking Marvel to loan him and the rest of the Avengers to me for a while. Until then, only original characters are mine.

AN: Okay, so this is going to be mostly Bucky and my new OC, but there will occasionally be appearances by Steve and Adena (like in the chapter). I don't know about the rest of the Avengers, but they might show up, too, in the future. Anyway, please enjoy, and don't forget to review. Thanks!

Chapter 1: Diverging Paths:

More than a week after our last chat with Fury, Steve was still hard-pressed to decide where to start looking for Bucky.

So far, the only thing we'd really managed to do was settle into our apartment, and gotten officially hired by Stark Industries. Paperwork usually took ages to get through, but when you've got Tony Stark himself filling it out, things tend to get approved and processed much faster than usual.

Presently, Tony didn't have anywhere to send Steve, so my husband spent most of his time searching through the file that Natasha had provided, looking for clues and writing down places where Bucky had been.

I, meanwhile, looked through all the leaked SHIELD information online, hoping to find something useful. Between the two of us, Steve and I had found out that, as the Winter Soldier, Bucky had traveled to a dozen countries over the decades, all for missions on HYDRA's behalf.

However, he'd never stayed in any of those cities or sites for very long, and we both found it very doubtful that he'd return to a place where he'd killed someone, especially when he had no real ties to the area.

As a result of our long and rather fruitless searching, Steve often went to bed grumpy and exhausted from not finding any firm clues or information. When we finally went to bed late each night, the only thing that cheered him up enough to try and get a restful night's sleep was when the two of us cuddled up together, my head against his chest and his cheek resting on my head, the close contact providing just enough comfort to sooth our busy minds.

Finally, we decided to stop looking at where Bucky had been, and started thinking of places where he would go to, if he needed to hide out. I started searching through more of SHIELD's leaked files, as well as any info forwarded to us by Phil or Natasha, to try and find out if there were any places he had retreated to in an emergency.

Unfortunately, this second list we were attempting to make was even smaller than the previous one. Steve guessed that it was because the Winter Soldier had rarely failed in his assignments, so he had never really needed to retreat to someplace secure. There had only been three or four such instances, and the hideouts that SHIELD had managed to discover had long been destroyed –one was now an empty field, and the other was civilian-owned bar and grill. Neither one was a likely place for an assassin to hide out in.

As time passed, Steve grew more and more edgy about finding Bucky. We had little to go on, and no concrete place to go to. He wanted to get going, but the world was still a big place, even in this day and age. People were, for the most part, easier to track down, but that's because they left a trail. HYDRA had made sure that they were the only ones who could find the Soldier.

As for me, I was seriously starting to have doubts about this whole thing. I knew that Bucky meant a whole lot to Steve, but it was obvious that he wasn't the same man from seventy years ago. The person Steve knew was either buried deep inside the Soldier's brain, or eradicated altogether, and I was terrified that the next time the two men met, Steve might not make it out alive again.

But even in spite of my doubts, I still clung to the slight glimmer of hope that Steve was right, and that Bucky's memories and personality were starting to come to the surface. I wanted to meet the young man my husband loved like a brother, to get to know a bit more about the life he had left behind, the life which he talked so little about, even after all this time.

It wasn't that Steve didn't trust me with his past; it was just that it was too painful to remember old friends, family, and memories of things that had happened back then. The only time he opened up was on our rare trips to the Smithsonian, and even then, it was usually to talk about his war buddies, nothing more.

The fact that Steve wanted to keep that part of his life private hurt, but I knew it hurt him far more than me to think about it. I only hoped that, with Bucky, the two of them might open up about that part of their lives, so that I could help the two of them through their pain.

And if our search for Bucky wasn't going bad enough, I had problems of my own. Steve thought that I was spending all of my time searching only for facts and information on Bucky. He had no idea that that was only half of how my time was spent.

The other half was spent fending off my family.

Not long after Natasha had released SHIELD's files, I started getting phone calls from my parents and various other family members about what was going on. They had, of course, seen the destruction of the Carriers on television (clips of it were still being played over and over on news stations around the globe), and gotten freaked out.

Lucky for me, JT was clever enough to divert calls to a voicemail box of his creation, so that I wouldn't have to deal with my family's calls, Steve's injuries, our moves, and a million other things that had happened since then. It gave me enough of a breather so that I could get my shit together and try to settle down again with Steve.

Of course, since they couldn't get a hold of me by phone, my family members began flooding my inbox with e-mails. JT did what he could to divert them, so that I could deal with them later, but I knew that I'd eventually just have to face the music and start contacting everyone.

I decided that the best way to do that was with a simple, generic e-mail to everyone. I told them I was fine, that Steve and I were safe, and that we had a plan in place for staying that way. I also informed them that calling and e-mailing me constantly would only get me angry, and that if they wanted updates from me, I'd send out a notice to them once every couple weeks or so. They would have to be content with that.

Naturally, they weren't. Most of them flooded my inbox again with demands for immediate, individual e-mail responses, but the only people I was willing to do that for was my parents and my brother (who had decided to remain rather quiet during this whole thing).

Unfortunately for me, my parents demanded that I call them immediately and tell them everything that had happened. In their e-mail, Mom wanted me to go into hiding somewhere until things were safe (not going to happen), and Dad told me that a lot of the family wanted me to leave Steve, because being married to him had gotten much too dangerous. I told him that he could tell those relatives where they could stick that idea, since I wasn't leaving my husband for any reason.

All this I did behind Steve's back, since it wouldn't do him any good to worry about it. He had enough on his plate, and his efforts to find Bucky kept him so busy that we spent most of the day pouring over documents and the internet, without saying much to one another.

That's why, after one particularly stressful day, I was surprised when out of the blue, Steve suddenly spoke up, breaking the drawn out silence we were working in.

It pained Steve to admit it, but it needed to be said. "This is getting us nowhere."

Adena looked up from the computer screen she'd been staring at for the past several days, surprise written all over her face. But it wasn't the surprise that kept his attention –it was the dark circles under her eyes.

Blinking, Steve wondered how he hadn't notice those before, and silently cursed himself for being so blatant about his wife's health. She was clearly exhausted from all the effort of helping him with his search for Bucky, and he'd been so wrapped up in his own research that he'd never noticed.

"I'm an idiot," he said, startling her again.

"What? Did you learn something from the files that I didn't?" she asked, clearly confused.

He sighed. "No, those are two different topics. Our research is getting us nowhere, and I'm an idiot for not seeing how drained you are from looking at files that have nothing useful in them. I'm so sorry, Adena."

Adena gave him a tired grin. "I am a bit beat," she admitted. "And you're right about the files. We've got nothing to go on, and nowhere for us to go to so that we can track him down."

She sighed and leaned back in her chair, rubbing her eyes as she did so. Getting up from his own seat, Steve made his way over to her and began to rub her shoulders. He smiled as Adena let out a contented sigh and leaned back, clearly in bliss.

"So what does that leave us?" she muttered as her body relaxed.

Hmm, that was a good question. Where did that leave them, besides sitting there with nothing?

"I was thinking about Russia and Eastern Europe," Steve admitted. "It's where I lost Bucky, and where he was found afterwards, before being dragged in by HYDRA. I think it's time for me to head over there and start asking questions."

His wife was quiet for a little while, and he wondered if it was because she was thinking, or she'd fallen asleep under his ministrations. Steve didn't stop his efforts on her shoulders, though –his fingers were rubbing against the soft, smooth skin there, and he rather liked the sensation.

"Well," she sighed as he rubbed a particular spot near her neck, "I guess it's off to Europe or Russia for us, then."

Steve froze. "Us?" he asked, not sure if he'd heard right.

Adena turned in her seat to look at him. "Don't think for one minute that you're leaving me behind," she firmly told him. "After watching you head out on missions, and seeing you almost die on your last one, I am not letting you go out there with only Sam to watch your back!"

She glared at him as he tried to protest. Lucky for him, someone chose that moment to knock, or else he'd have been involved in an argument with his wife –and this one, he knew he'd lose.

Practically racing for the door, Steve opened it to the welcoming sight of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts, giving them both thankful looks as he let them in. He was actually more surprised by their visit, but their impeccable timing was very much appreciated at this point!

"Tony, Pepper!" Adena exclaimed, a smile on her face as she welcomed them with hugs. "What are you two doing here? Sit down and let me get you something to drink."

Steve couldn't help but smile as his wife rushed to settle their friends on the couch. The three quickly agreed on lemonade to drink, and since Tony seemed to be hungry, Adena brought out a tray of chips and salsa. Since there were several bowls, Steve helped himself as he listened to what had brought his fellow Avenger to D.C.

"Business, as usual," Tony replied to Adena's inquiry. "Pepper and I needed to check up on how our friends from SHIELD are holding up, now that we've got them onboard as Stark employees."

Adena gave him a sly look. "I'll bet, after all the money you've poured into helping us."

Tony gave her an innocent look as Pepper laughed. "We can't take all the credit," the redhead said with a smile. "But we are glad you like the apartment. It was the least we could do, once we figured out that you wouldn't be able to return home after the whole Carrier incident."

"Yeah, you guys really aren't equipped to deal with rabid fans, reporters, and government types," Tony commented as he reached for a chip, which he used to scoop up a heap of salsa before popping it in his mouth. Around a mouthful of food, he said, "And since you both risked a lot for the greater good, we thought you deserved a nice place."

"We'll do what we can to pay you back," Steve promised as he also consumed a salsa-laden chip.

Tony waved his words aside. "Pepper and I won't accept any money from you guys; you know that." He grinned. "Besides, I own the building."

Pepper smacked him on the shoulder and threw her boyfriend a glare. "What he means is that the company owns the building, and all the other apartments here are inhabited by Stark Industries employees. This particular one just so happens to be more secure and private than the others, which is why we chose it for you."

"Well, that's a relief," Adena muttered as she sipped her glass of lemonade. "So, you're just here to check and see how Steve and I are settling in?"

Tony shook his head. "Actually, I've got a job for him to do in Europe. I'm hoping that he's ready to get to work." He smirked. "I've also got a little bird that says you're itching to get looking for that buddy of yours that you lost in the War. This might be a good chance to get started on that."

Adena crossed her arms and glared at both him and Steve. "He's not going alone," she flatly told them. "He needs backup."

Pepper nodded. "We know about Sam Wilson. Actually, we hired him this morning, and assigned him to be Steve's assistant."

To his surprise, Steve actually felt a bit excited about the whole thing. He was finally going to get the chance to start looking for Bucky! "When do we leave?"

"Yes," Adena drawled, "When do we leave?"

Steve nearly choked as Tony said, "The three of you head out in a couple days. Travel's all in company jets and cars, and you'll be put up at a hotel where my employees tend to stay when you get there."

He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out two credit cards, handing one to Steve and the other to Adena. Looking at the card in his hands, Steve saw his name engraved on it, and knew that the other had Adena's.

"Corporate credit cards," Tony explained. "I'm giving one to you, Adena, in case you need anything and Steve's not around to get it for you." He grinned. "Just try not to have too much fun with my money, okay?"

Adena gave a dramatic sigh. "Fine, take all the fun out of it!" she huffed as she put the card into her purse. "But seriously, Tony; thanks for doing all of this. I don't know what we'd have done, now that SHIELD's been taken down."

Pepper smiled as she cradled her cup of lemonade in her hands. "Don't worry about it. All that we ask is that Steve does the jobs we assign him, and in return, he can look for his friend all he wants. Keep us posted, though –we'll need to know if there's a way we can keep an eye out for him -or on him, if he's located. We don't want to risk your safety."

The rest of them agreed with her before changing conversation topics. Pepper and Adena chatted about fashion, while Tony gave Steve a few more details about what he'd be doing in Europe, as well as where he'd be going.

An hour later, their friends left, and Steve was busy trying to figure out how he was going to tell his wife that he didn't want her to go with him. Before he could, however, she gave him a firm look that told him arguing was going to be pointless. She was going: end of story.

Sighing, Steve gave into the inevitable and went to go pack.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in Washington D. C., a figure approached the Captain America exhibit in the Smithsonian. No one looked in his direction; all of them were too busy staring at the different artifacts and displays to notice him. If they had, they'd have seen the scruffy beard, the confusion in his face, and the look in his eyes that screamed of his desperate need to find something, though he knew not what he was searching for.

Still, he looked and dressed well enough to fit in with the crowd, so no one called for security to remove the man. That was good, because there were few fighters in the world who could best him.

In the exhibit, the stranger wandered through the rooms, eyes looking at everything and absorbing the information provided. He had learned of this place through a brochure in the rundown motel he currently dwelled in, and he had come today to try and find answers to the many questions swirling through his head. Much was dismissed as insignificant, but there were certain areas that were helpful, though not by much, in his opinion.

Finally, in one of the final rooms, he found it: an immense glass wall engraved with the information he was looking for. The wall was dedicated to James Buchanan Barnes, known fondly by his friends as 'Bucky.'

The information there was straight and to the point. It listed Bucky's birth date, detailed a bit about his younger years, and how he had joined the Second World War as a young man. It told of Bucky being Captain America's closest friend, and about his youth and war service. His efforts during the war were there, too, as well his death date. It was a very interesting wall.

After he had memorized everything there, the stranger walked out into the fading sunlight. He needed to think, and to consider his options.

Not long after, he returned to his temporary hideout. So far, HYDRA had not located him, but that was to be expected –in the resulting chaos following the Carriers' destruction, it was easy for him to lose himself in the world. He had found and extracted funds some of HYDRA's less-hidden bank accounts, carefully transferring them into various private accounts that were hidden even from their eyes. It was doubtful that they would find out where he was -for a while at least.

Sitting in the room, he thought about what to do next.

He could not return to HYDRA. He was not the same as he'd been before his encounter with Captain America during that heated battle on a freeway bridge. There was no doubt that, if HYDRA got their hands on him again, they would attempt to wipe his memories as thoroughly as possible –and if they failed in wiping his mind, they would resort to a full-out attack on his brain. He was too valuable an asset to leave 'compromised' by the new flood of memories, feelings, and thoughts that now plagued him.

But he could not simply become a normal man again. His metal arm would make him stand out, and someone would eventually know who he was: HYDRA's fist of destruction. SHIELD might no longer exist, but other agencies around the world would want him brought to justice for all the horrible things he had done over the decades.

But if he could not return to his violent path under HYDRA, he must choose the more mundane life of a plain man.

The problem was that he had no idea how to achieve that.

He was by no means a 'normal' man. He might have been, once, but things were very different now. He needed to be controlled –his temper was volatile, and very dangerous, which was why there were usually teams standing by to take him down if he ever went rogue during a mission. There had been a few unpleasant instances where he hadn't remained focused on the tasks he'd been given, and things had turned very ugly for those on the receiving end of his anger.

That was why, as much as he needed help remembering where he was, he needed someone to keep him in check. He needed someone with a cool head to counter his hot one –they would also need to help cool him off, too, whenever he acted out.

He had briefly considered the woman by the river as an option. She was Captain America's wife –that information was widely known now, thanks to the leak of SHIELD's files. If everything he had read about her was true, she could help him, at least with information and possibly his memories.

'But after what I've done to the man she loved, she probably won't be very willing.' The same could probably be said about her husband.

No, he needed someone who was just as knowledgeable about Captain America and 'Bucky' as Adena Rogers was. That would be someone she was close to, someone she had grown up with.

That was when he knew what he had to do…and what was required to do it.

AN: So, I'm going to be on vacation next week, and will not be updating until I get back. I'm sorry to leave everybody hanging with just this one chapter, but that's kind of how this worked out. I'm hoping everyone will be patient, and I will post as soon as I possibly can when I return. Thanks so much, and please don't forget to review!