A/N- After D23, news about Falcon and Winter Soldier came to light. I took that in and saw this as a prequel for that show. Enjoy.

Three days after Steve's funeral/Current Day:

He looked in the mirror at his reflection through the steam on the glass. Short hair spiked in random directions, a few wayward drips of water running down to his eyebrows and threatening his eyes.

Frowning subconsciously, he rubbed a towel roughly over his hair dislodging the moisture. He looked back down into the bowl of the sink, hands gripping the sides tightly, squeezing his own eyes shut as if it would help to block out the reality that Steve was really gone.

"I'll miss you." rang back from the woods at Tony's funeral.

"Don't do anything stupid."

"How can I? You're taking it all with you."

His left hand began to make the porcelain screech in protest under the metal grip. The sound jolted him from his anger and hurt. Bucky looked up sharply, the glass having cleared some. He saw loss, fear and anger in his depths of his eyes. The young man who was not young at all, drifting deserted, with no one to relate to. Damn you, Steve, he thought bitterly.

Dressing, he combed his hair neatly with a dab of pomade and his cell phone he texted: "Ready to meet?"

The response came: "Where?"

"The automat down in Brooklyn."

"Is that place still there?"

"We'll find out."

Two days after Steve's funeral:

"Mrs. Stark…" Bucky began to the sympathetic looking Pepper at one of the rare times they actually bumped into each other in the penthouse kitchen. He had circles under his eyes from not sleeping.

She smiled knowingly at his sad expression and reached out for his hands, "It's Pepper, Bucky."

"Yes… Pepper." Barnes shifted his feet uncomfortably noticing how nice it felt to have someone who knew how he felt, "I'm going to move out of the Tower."

Pepper's eyes grew wide in surprise, "Why? This is your home."

A slim smile crinkled his lips, "No, it's your home and the Avengers. I've never been one of them and now that…" he swallowed, "Steve is really gone, there is no reason for me to be here."

"You know you are wanted here, right?" Pepper stated softly.

"Yes, I do, and you've been beyond kind, all things considered." Bucky replied pulling on his manners from the 1940's with this very modern woman, "But it's time for me to go." He disengaged his hands from hers.

"Where will you go?"

With an emptiness that made Pepper's eyes tear, Barnes replied, "I don't know, yet."

One day after Steve's Funeral:

Fogwell's gym was still preserved by the good will of some lawyers and being designated a National Landmark site since the once Captain America had been known to use the facility. Bucky danced and pounded his fists into bag after bag, sand piling up as if a beach had been laid inside. Ten years prior, it was Steven Rogers doing the punching. Barnes came here because it was the last place he could think of where he could let his rage out and no one would see his tears mixing with his sweat.

Just like ten years ago, a tall dark figure watched in the shadows.

Bucky knew he was there, but he didn't care about anything right there except making something hurt worse than him.

Nick Fury watched the man who almost killed him a few years ago, with patience and a touch of reverence. The Russians had done an exquisite job of making the Winter Soldier and although Wakanda cured him, the training was still there in all its deadly glory.

When Bucky couldn't breathe because he had worked himself into a lather, he sat gasping on a collapsed bag, half full of sand, looking as if a bucket of water had been dumped on him.

"Come out." he rasped.

"I didn't mean to pry." Nick approached carefully.

"Did anyway." Barnes growled.

"It's hard."

"You have no idea." Bucky said somberly but didn't look at Nick sitting, arms on his knees, sweat dripping off the tip of his nose, lose tendrils of hair plastered to his temples and forehead.

Fury had a sharp comment for Bucky, but changed his mind, "You're right."

"What do you want?" Bucky was in no mood for polite conversation.

Nick shifted his weight and clasped his hands in front of him. "I understand the shield has been passed to Sam Wilson."

"What's it to you?" Barnes cocked an eye up at the S.H.E.I.L.D. Director feeling suddenly protective of his new friend.

"We may have to postpone his debut as the new Captain."

Bucky grimaced with bitter sarcasm, "Why? Too soon?"

Fury dipped his chin some in respect for the late Steve Rogers. They didn't always see eye to eye, but Nick had always respected Cap for sticking to his beliefs even when they were not popular. "We just had an incident with a young man you may know, in Europe."

"Seems like the kid handled it." Bucky wiped his face with the back of his right hand, the boxing wrappings scraping across his forehead.

"Not as well as you would think. We have some PR to do."

"Now I know why Nat loved you so much." Barnes turned his face upward and gave a feral smile. Nick wasn't sure if that was an insult or compliment.

"If you see Sam, please tell him to keep it down for a bit. We'll be in touch." Fury pivoted on his heel and walked away.

Bucky silently watched him leave not sure if he should be angry for Sam or warn him.

Current Day:

The automat of Bucky and Steve's day was now a quaint coffee shop, local, and part of the rebirth of the Dumbo neighborhood. Bucky walked in and was pleased how much of the original ambiance they had maintained. The person he was meeting was not hard to find.

"You know, a ball cap and sunglasses do not make a great disguise, right?"

"Well, obviously you think a haircut is sufficient." The face of Sam Wilson smiled up from the table he was seated at, a burgundy ball cap on his head and aviator glasses over his eyes. Sam stood up and offered a hand. Bucky took it in a shake, ending it in a brotherly hug.

"What are you drinking?" Bucky asked, taking a seat opposite.

"Something more stimulating that a beer." A waitress approached, "Can I get a cup of coffee for my friend here? Thanks." She nodded and turned away.

"You look good." Sam sounded earnest.

"Thanks. Call it my Greatest Generation fortitude." Bucky smiled slightly.

"I can see you're not sleeping though."

"No, mother hen." Bucky nodded thanks to the waitress as she deposited the cup on the table.

"You ok?"

"Right as rain." Bucky lied.

"I am sure you didn't call me so soon for random banter. I mean, we've had our moments, and all but this really isn't the time."

"Funny, bird man. No. I'm here because I need a place to crash and I have some news."

Sam's eyes widened, "You think you can just call me, have coffee, butter me up and move in?"

"Well, yeah." Bucky's eyes were mischievous, "I hear rent is killer around here."

"Says the man without a job."

"Well, that is where you come in too."

"Do tell." Sam sipped his coffee.

"I figure I'd take you up on that partnership, but I am NO sidekick." Bucky took a sip as well. The strong brew seemed to calm his rough morning.

"Now you want to be my partner." Sam sounded droll.

"Whad'ya say?" Bucky asked.

Wilson looked thoughtful, his eyebrows furrowing together, "I'm not sure. You kind of owe me."

"I owe you!?"

"Hmm hmm." Sam drank another sip. "Who saved your ass from T'Challa? That cat is still weird with me." Bucky sat, incredulous, "And… you tried to kick me off a helicarrier. I've never recovered from that. Still have nightmares." Barnes began to crack a smile, then a chuckle. "Made you laugh." Wilson teased.

"That's a yes then?"

"It's a maybe, like a trial period, like lay-away. Do you even know what that is in your ninety-year-old brain?" Sam pointed gently at Barnes, who was still laughing softly.

"Ok. You ready for the news?"

"What? We're under arrest again? Did you see what that Parker kid did? I knew we couldn't trust that boy. What a mess; kids these days."

"Nick talked to me." Sam became still. "He said you can't be Cap yet."

"Was that all?" Wilson was unsmiling.

Bucky looked at him curiously, surprised at Sam's reaction. "Pretty much. He mentioned Parker. Maybe there was more to it than that."

"Good."

"How is that good? We need a new Cap." Bucky was slightly confused.

"I'm not ready for that title." Wilson's voice was soft and solemn.

"You're worthy!" Barnes leaned forward in his chair, beseeching. A part of him wished that Sam would take up the shield and the mantle of Captain America and he could be the partner letting him forget how much he was missing Steve and their friendship. The distraction of missions would give his mind time to forget the magnitude of his loss.

"Are you Thor or something?" he caught Bucky's eyes with a stern look, "I am not ready. I never said I wasn't worthy. That title is a huge responsibility."

Bucky sat back in his chair and looked at the cup of coffee, lightly touching the rim of the cup with his left hand. The Wakandan vibranium alloy was a deep mesmerizing purple.

"I'm sorry." Sam finally said, breaking the silence.

"Sorry for what?" Barnes didn't look at him but continued to stare at the cup vacantly trying to make sense of his feelings. Bucky thought he was going to be ok. Steve and he had talked about this. Why did it hurt so damn much?

"I'm sorry I'm not Steve, for one. I'm sorry I can't be Cap right now and help you forget." Wilson finished.

Barnes looked at Wilson, his eyes dark but grateful for understanding. "It's ok. We'll get through this together."

"Yes. We will." Sam replied, "But as my new roommate, you're washing bathrooms."

Barnes opened his mouth to protest, and Sam laughed as both men realized they were going to be alright.