"I wish that's all it was. Although, I guess I shouldn't say that. I guess I really shouldn't wish for anything."
And he smiled, just a little, to take the desperation out of those words. He knew all too well that wishing for something or trying to bend the world to his, or anyone else's will was never the right way to go about administering change. Nothing people were forced into was ever good; nothing people were forced into was permanent. Nothing about losing Bucky again had been easy, and no way he tried to think about it -- no amount of admitting that the world was better off set right, or trying to appreciate the time that he and Barnes had together, brief as it was, for what it was made the fact he was gone now any less tragic.
He used to have dreams about Bucky, still did, actually. While his nights were sometimes frequented by nightmares about the war, almost all of his dreams about Barnes were good. He had the opportunity to relive his cherished memories or see Bucky again the way he was supposed to be. But those dreams were often harder to wake up from then the nightmares. At least, with bad dreams, he could be grateful that they weren't real. He didn't wake up with a tight chest, verklempt and lost because his best dreams could never come true.
"I haven't spoken to Sharon in a long time, Tony." He said finally. It felt better to focus on that. There were still ripples in the water from his failed relationship with with best woman he's never known, and besides that the pragmatic side of Steve Rogers just told him that his energy would be better spent on a problem that he could do something about than wasting it on the emotionally draining prospect of just being sad and as powerless as a sailboat in the hurricane that was everything he felt about Bucky. "Which, I could lie to you about and tell you is a big problem because I would like to have someone who I know would tell me the truth in SHIELD, but honestly -- honestly it's just hard because I miss her."