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A/N - this is really angsty, which is something I haven't done yet. So, trying new things get you new experience ;) Enjoy

He left and never came back. Nothing gave a clue as to where he went, not even a goodbye or a timeline of when he was going to be back. After six months, you slowly stopped looking, putting the things away. As what the team saw. When you were alone, you had everything in front of you, silently searching for him in the darkest of nights.

It was three in the morning, and your computer screen was lighting up your face, papers scattered across your bed as you read through articles about the winter soldier. You knew he was somewhere out in the world, but didn't know how he was doing. What he hurt? Was he dead? Was he himself?

Every news app there was, you had, in case something came up. Your brain kept telling you to stop and try again later in the day, but your heart told you no. You listened to your heart.

Light taps on the door brought you out of your thoughts, looking up just as it creaked open. Dim light came from the hallway, alluminating Sam's body as he walked further into the room. "Figured you would still be up," he stated softly, walking over to sit at the end of the bed.

"Couldn't sleep I guess," you shrugged as you picked up a few papers, hoping he wouldn't read them. "What did you need, Sam?"

"Came to check up on you."

"Bullshit."

Sam sighed as he scooted some of the papers away so he could lay next to you, not surprised by your bluntness. Used to his late night visits, you closed your computer and rested your head on his chest, looking up at the ceiling as he rubbed your side. "I thought you stopped looking for him?" He questioned, looking over at you to give you the hint he wanted an answer.

You scoffed as you kept your gaze to the ceiling, "you really believed that?"

"I guess."

Silence fell over as you thought about everything, slowly letting your thoughts take over as Sam comforted you, something he did frequently.

"Why would he just leave?" You started, still keeping your eyes on the ceiling so your tears went down to your hairline, and so Sam didn't see. "He left me without a goodbye, or letter or text or note, or just anything to tell me he would be safe, or he would come back. Does he not care about me anymore? Does he hate me so much he had to leave?"

Sam shook his head as he sat up, turning you to him. "No, y/n. If anything, he loved you, and probably still does. He cared so much he would sacrifice himself just so you could walk away. No one knows why he left, but you weren't the reason. Come on." He stood up off the bed, waiting for you at the end.

"Where we going?" You asked, sitting up slightly.

"On a walk."

***

Four months after that, you still hadn't stopped searching. You and Sam went on late night walks almost every night, just ranting about life situations, or staying quiet as the two of you walked alongside the sleeping city.

It's been over a year without communication from Bucky, and still felt the same. How could you move on when you didn't have closure? He was buried deep in your mind, and wouldn't get out until you get answers.

Walking into the compound, you took a breath and waited a moment before opening the door to the common room, being prepared for anything that could happen for the day.

Sadly, it was already bad.

You stepped into the room to meet eyes you were so familiar with, freezing in place at the man standing across from you. The rest of the team was standing along the room, quiet as the two of you made eye contact.