A/N: I have other stories in this series that take place before this one, but this is kind of an outline for my head canon, so I decided to start with it.

Alone

Steve Rogers was alone.

Peggy had gone to her well-deserved rest. Bucky had allowed himself to be put in cryogenic suspension again to protect others from the Hydra demons in his head. The Avengers basically had been disbanded. Most of his friends were in prison or on the run. The ones that weren't probably didn't consider themselves his friends any more.

The man out of time was alone again.

Steve sat on his brooding bench in Wakanda, trying to figure out what to do next. Rather, he knew what to do, he just didn't know how to go about it. The man with a plan was making a plan.

King T'Challa entered the garden talking on a cellphone.

"No, it's quite all right," he told the caller. "I have come around to your way of thinking. There's no need to apologize. In fact, I have someone here you should talk to."

The king sat shoulder-to-shoulder with the Super Soldier and handed him the phone.

"Hello?"

"Steve?" said a familiar voice in surprise.

Steve smiled, because he wasn't alone any more.

Sharon Carter was alone, more alone than she'd ever been before.

Her beloved Aunt Peggy had died. Her career had collapsed. When SHIELD folded under the weight of Hydra, she had been lucky to find a job with the CIA. But she'd burned all her bridges behind her when she stole from them and aided the fugitives Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson and James "Bucky" Barnes. Now she herself was also a fugitive, one of Interpol's most wanted.

She'd known this would happen, but it had still been an easy decision to make. She'd actually made it two years before, when the helicarriers began to rise over the Potomac.

Sharon Carter was still following the captain's orders.

After giving Steve his shield back, she'd driven to another town, then abandoned her car, walked five miles to a safe house the CIA didn't know about. (Old habits leftover from being a SHIELD undercover operative.)

When she left her apartment, her blonde hair was dyed magenta with black roots. She had a gold nose ring and a tattoo of a rose vine that peeked out of her collar and twined down her right arm. Dressed in jeans and a UCLA T-shirt, toting a well-worn backpack, she looked like any college student with a Eurail pass out to see the world. She didn't expect anyone would look past the magenta hair and nose ring to see a wanted fugitive.

As she approached the train station, she paused like a tourist to (pretend to) take a photo of the ornate exterior on her (burner) cellphone.

"Nice tat," said the familiar voice of the Black Widow behind her.

Sharon's heart sank. Of course Natasha had figured out her exit strategy. The Black Widow had been one of her training officers, after all.

Sharon turned slowly, holding her empty hands away from her sides, because she'd just as soon not be tasered or shot. She blinked when she didn't see the squad of officers she expected, or the Black Widow, for that matter.

What she saw was a girl with dishwater blonde hair that was badly in need of a trim. She wore jeans and a Lady Antebellum T-shirt and had her right arm in a cast. She carried a backpack in her other hand. She looked young and innocent and not at all official. In fact, she looked like she was on the run, too.

"I was hoping to run into you," Natasha continued. "Give a girl a hand?"

Sharon automatically took the backpack, which was really heavy, as if it was full of books. Not unreasonable for a supposed college student, Sharon supposed.

"What happened?" she asked quietly, her voice nearly drowned by the hubbub of the busy train station.

Natasha shrugged. "I tripped," she said, displaying her "broken" arm. "Turns out black cats are as unlucky as they're reputed to be."

She had fought the Black Panther! That wouldn't sit well with General Ross.

"I hear Brussels is pretty this time of year," Natasha said. "I can't wait to see it!"

OK, Brussels it was. Sharon obediently used the two Eurail passes to get tickets to Brussels. They were delayed a bit at the metal detector while Natasha showed the (fake) X-rays of the metal rod in her poor broken arm. Sharon hadn't bothered to try to smuggle any metal weapons onto the train, which didn't mean she was unarmed.

She had to admit, two college girls touring Europe together was much less suspicious than a solo traveler. Sharon smiled when she realized, she wasn't alone any more.

"What's in the backpack? It weighs a ton," she said, as they settled into their seats.

"Notebooks, of course," Natasha the college student answered.

Then Sharon realized that she'd seen that backpack before.

"What are you going to do with those?" she asked in alarm.

With a grim expression that belied her easy words, Natasha answered, "A little light reading."

Sam Wilson figured he would never be alone again. Locked in a cell with his fellow prisoners nearby, under constant monitoring, he'd never have another moment of privacy.

It was a little ridiculous, since only one of them had powers. The other three were ordinary men without their gear. They didn't need to be locked up in Super Villain Maximum Security, but then, he wouldn't want to leave Wanda here alone. They had her tied up with some kind of control collar on her neck. It was cruel. At least she had the company of people who understood her.

Sam had always wanted to be a good guy. He'd always wanted to help people. He'd been pararescue in the Air Force and a counselor at the V.A. He'd never expected to end up a wanted man, but he wasn't sorry and he wasn't ashamed.

He'd committed himself to Cap's cause. He believed in Barnes' innocence.

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. said, "The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy." Sam stood with Captain America. He stood with Steve Rogers. Even if he stood alone, he would never regret following the captain's orders.

And then the lights went out. And out of the darkness came salvation.

Sam Wilson smiled.

Tony Stark was alone. Well, not exactly. Somewhere in the Avengers headquarters was a broken-backed Air Force colonel busy with his rehab and an android who seemed to have fallen into a deep depression.

The three of them rattled around in this big empty barn. He'd sent Maria Hill packing, because she'd never worked for him, not really. And he couldn't find Helen Cho now that he really needed her.

The building seemed like a ghosttown and he kept finding reminders of the Avengers who were gone — bits of feathers from an arrow, the mint tea that reminded Natasha of Bruce, a CD that Sam had recommended to Wanda. Little things — not to mention a gaping hole in two or three floors clear down to the basement! That Maximoff woman had no regard for building maintenance!

When he was feeling particularly oppressed, Tony would open a drawer and look at the god-awful, old-fashioned flip phone that reminded him of Steve's promise. He could still feel the anger burning in the back of his mind, but it didn't control him any more. He wouldn't call to make buddy-buddy with Rogers, but he wouldn't put his ego above world safety. If danger threatened, he'd make the call.

While he brooded, the mail carrier arrived with another package for Tony Stank. (Tony had checked. The man wasn't misreading the label. Apparently his former friends were expressing their displeasure. Of course, it might attract unwanted attention to address a package to the famous Tony Stark.)

This package was a lot heavier than the first. Inside were stacks of notebooks, various shapes and sizes. Bright red sticky notes marked pages throughout the collection.

He picked up the greeting card on top. It wasn't signed, but it was a Halloween card covered with a spider's web, so he could guess who sent it.

"Dear Tony, I know what you saw. I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner, but all Steve and I had to go with was Zola's taunting video. Not really a reliable source. And so difficult to bring up in a conversation. By the way, Hydra killed your parents. So we let it slide. Been a little busy in case you didn't notice. If you want to know more, read the marked passages in Barnes' notebooks. These are his memories and his thoughts about his memories. They were never meant to be shared, so I think they're honest. Just so you know, they're terrible, but they're important. If you really want to understand, read them. Or keep them safe for future generations or future criminal trials. Whatever. Stay safe. Be strong. You are Iron Man. And remember, you are not alone."

Looking at the notebooks, Tony had an almost overwhelming urge to burn them. Instead, he shoved them away in the bottom of a drawer for a day when he was feeling braver.

Then he went to find Rhodey, so they wouldn't be alone.

Baron Zemo sat in his containment unit, smug and smiling. He had destroyed the Avengers. They were all dead or in prison or suffering all alone.

But he was wrong.

A/N: So, Bucky's backpack full of notebooks disappeared after he and Steve and Sam and T'Challa were arrested after the tunnel chase. I think reading his memories of the crimes the Winter Soldier committed would be good evidence for future trials. But reading his reactions to those memories would be evidence in his defense.