Steve was everything the weirdly invasive history books and biographies said he was. He was every inch and ounce the great man the world thought him to be. Bucky had known that all along, and he was pleased that even seventy years later, the whole world was finally beginning to get to know his Steve. And Steve’s mind was something special too. He was one of the greatest tacticians the world had ever seen. Any situation, any enemy, any impossible scenario you could throw at him, Steve would bull right through it. Put him up against any great leader of the past, and Bucky would place his bets on Steve every time.He had, in fact. Bucky’d bet his life on Steve, every time they’d waltzed into battle.The thing was, Steve’s tactical mind was a thing of beauty, a rare gem in a world of mediocrity, something that barely came along once every few generations.But when it came to matters of the heart and soul? Steve Rogers was kind of a dumbass.But for the first time, Bucky had time to deal with Steve’s temper his way.
This fic adroitly handles dark humour born of trauma, the natural dialogue of a team of soldiers treading water over their grief and refusing to drown in it. It develops a plot of its own, intimately woven into the Winter Soldier's capabilities and necessitating the whole team to bring it down.