Friend To Lover - Steve x Bucky

Chapter 1

Steve's POV

Being stuck in ice for so many years really does something to you. I can't remember the last time I ever felt so lost or so alone. Bucky is dead, Peggy is dying, and SHIELD definitely isn't on my friend list. Sure, they got me out of the ice and I'm grateful for what they've done, but they were constantly poking and prodding at me like I'm some kind of guinea pig! I just wish I could have been left in the ice for longer, or at least have the serum run out so I would have died. It would've made my life so much easier without the burden of grief and guilt I carry on my shoulders. However, one thing hasn't changed, and that's Washington. I used to go out for runs back before I was frozen and just to feel the wind through my hair always lifted my spirits. I still got that feeling when I was running today early in the morning. I passed someone a few times, but I never got a chance to stop and introduce myself, after all, with all my friends gone it was definitely time to make some new ones. By midday I had past a man who was pretty fit, but with the serum I was practically unbeatable, I warned him saying "on your left" but he didn't seem too happy that I passed him again. When I finished my run I saw him sitting under a tree, breathing heavily, so I decided to introduce myself.
"You need a medic?"
He laughed as if it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard before responding saying:
"I need a new pair of lungs."
I smiled at this interaction. People nowadays were so much more rude, and barely returned the smile I always gave them. This guy I could tell was different.
"Sam Wilson," he introduced himself as, and smiled.
"Steve Rogers," I replied grinning as we started to talk.
He seemed to know who I was, and what had happened to me, but with all the social media websites these days, why should I be surprised. We joked around a little and when he recommended I listen to an album I pulled out my list and wrote it down. Soon I would need a new piece of paper because I've been writing down so much that I wanted to catch up on and things I had missed. Sam smiled when he saw my list and we joked around a little more when suddenly my cell phone made a sound. The caller ID said Natasha Romanoff. Natasha said there was an urgent matter, so I started to say goodbye to Sam. He invited me over to his work place to make him look "cool" to the receptionist as I heard a familiar car pull up at the curb.
"Hey fellas, either one of you know where the Smithsonian is, I'm here to pick up a fossil."
"Hilarious" I muttered.
Getting into the car I looked back at Sam and smiled, a friendly gesture that he returned. At least I'm starting to catch up in this world. I just hope things will get better. I had a rough start to me waking up and I just want things to go back to the way they were. Okay, maybe not exactly how they were. We could do without another world war, or all the bombings and all the dead and injured bodies. A shudder ran through me as I remembered back when I was in the war. I had a psychiatrist talk to me, SHIELD's orders, and she said she suspected me having Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I respectfully disagree. I'm not traumatized by what happened, I'm just having a hard time to adjusting to the new century.