A/N: So here it is, the final chapter of this story. Thank you all so much for all your support and interest in this story! I never expected or planned to write this much for this, but I really have enjoyed it and I hope you all have too.

And thank you my Savior, Jesus, for your great love and mercy and blessings I do not deserve.

Enjoy readers!

Epilogue

Eventually the tears dried, leaving him utterly exhausted and empty. He had no idea how long he'd been in the apartment, but he knew it had been too long. Far too long. It took all his energy to raise himself up into a sitting position. His body was heavy, heavier than his metal arm, and felt utterly raw.

Pressing a hand to his face, he tried to get his bearings. He had to leave. He had to disappear.

Something red and blue caught his attention on the coffee table. He blinked, surprised to see the furniture piece. Panic flitted at the edges of his mind. In his hysteria he had not even noticed it. Swallowing, he reached out and picked up the colorful item on it. It was a flyer for an exhibit at the Smithsonian on Captain America. Captain America…his mission…Steve.

He had to know for sure. He had to. Weakly, he got to his feet and wrinkled his nose at the stench of bile. The Smithsonian would be busy, with lots of security. He couldn't go there like this. Stumbling back to the bedroom, he ruffled through the drawers and found some clothes and quickly changed, keeping only his boots. The rest he stuffed into a plastic bag to throw away.

Spying a back pack near the end of the bed, he picked it up. There were a few pens, pencils, and a new unused journal inside.

Since you can't tell me, try writing it down.

He left the journal inside and went to check the dresser for money. He smirked when he found a several twenty dollar bills hidden in the sock drawer. Satisfied, he started to the fire escape. He paused, seeing a blue ball cap on the other side of the couch. It was a little rough for wear and appeared to have been damaged by a bullet. He picked it up and put it on as he climbed out the window and headed down to the streets.

Hours later, he stood in the Smithsonian Exhibit of Captain America. A display with a gray picture on it of a man caught his attention. Slowly he walked toward it, reading the name.

James Buchanan Barnes.

That was his face. That was him. He really was Bucky Barnes.

He bowed his head, trembling.

"Best friends since childhood, Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers were inseparable on both schoolyard and battlefield."

The narrating voice cut through the haze. Gritting his teeth, Bucky looked towards the picture of skinny Steve Rogers on a nearby wall. Steve would never stop searching for him. He knew that. But for now he had to disappear and become the ghost he had been for so long.

Because he couldn't face Steve now, not after all he'd had done.

With one last glance at the portrait of his best friend Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Sam Wilson could have never imagined the incredible events of the past few weeks. He'd gone from a VA counselor to friend of Steve Rogers to fugitive to Captain America's wingman and finally an Avenger. It was almost too much to process. But he didn't regret it. None of it. Steve was a good man, and a great friend. He was worth it. And right now, standing behind the man as he examined the tombstone with the name of a very much alive Nick Fury, he knew he never would. Not because there wouldn't be pain or fear or even anger and frustration. No, because he knew Steve cared about him and when Steve Rogers offered his friendship it was for life. Sam knew without question that if it was him in Barnes' place, Steve would be willing to risk the same things—to search just as hard—to believe he could be saved.

"So what now?"

Natasha had handed Steve a file before leaving them alone in the cemetery. She had said she needed to figure out what to do next since dumping all of SHIELD's secrets on the internet had revealed her past to the world. There was an unspoken understanding between them that it wasn't just to figure out who she was, but to fall off the grid to avoid old enemies attacking. That and Sam suspected she might be a little sweet on Steve. Or not. They had been made partners by the 'dead' Director Fury. And partners had to trust each other. Either way, she was going her own way. That left Sam to back Steve up because he was absolutely certain that the captain was not going to let what happened to Barnes, to SHIELD, slide.

Steve didn't answer immediately. His head tilted down to look at the file in his hands again, and Sam could see some of the black and white pictures and he cringed. What HYDRA had done to Barnes was beyond inhumane and cruel. Steve closed the file slowly, turning away from the empty grave. Sharp, blue eyes pierced Sam.

"I'm burning HYDRA to the ground," Steve said, his voice quiet but like granite. "I thought it was finished seventy years ago when I went into ice. That the SSR would wipe out the remnants with Schmidt dead. They didn't. And SHIELD has been cutting off the heads of HYDRA ever since and it hasn't worked. This time I'm burning it all down."

Sam nodded, dread and understanding warring inside him. There was no question that Steve was right. When he went into the ice, the SSR and later SHIELD failed to eradicate HYDRA because they thought cutting off the heads was enough. But the mythical monster hydra was never defeated that way—it was burned. Right now Sam could see fire in Steve's eyes. HYDRA had taken everything from him, but worse than that they had taken his best friend and used, abused, and brainwashed him during the time Steve was gone. Beyond that, the casualties of HYDRA's ongoing survival were far higher than Sam wanted to even think about. There had been so much evil perpetuated by HYDRA from their illegal human experimentations to assassinations and genocides; it was too much. They had to be stopped once and for all.

A reckoning was on the horizon, far greater than three insight carriers crashing into the Potomac. The world was about to change again and Sam knew things were going to get worse before they got better. Nevertheless Sam would follow Steve to whatever end he chose. Just like Barnes had seventy years ago. And maybe, just maybe, they'd find Barnes and bring him home.

"When do we start?"

Fin

Final Notes: So here at last is the end of "My Mission". It was a long ride since I'm such a pokey writer, but thank you all so very much for reading and reviewing! You guys have been amazing and incredibly patient as I've slowly written this story and it means a lot. *sends out virtual hugs and cookies* Thank you!

Until next time, ya'll take care and God bless!

Cheers,

Noelani