A Different Kind of Failure (слэш)

It takes Bucky a minute each morning to orient himself in time and space. My name is Bucky, he starts the litany-of-things-he-knows-beyond-a-shadow-of-a-doubt. I was born in 1917. I died in 1945, the first time. 2018, the second. It's 2023 now, and I'm in Budapest with Steve, who is older now. Being with Steve is a good thing.
Steve is back to what he naively thought would be the final act of a life well lived. It doesn't take long to see that nothing will go according to plan: after a conspiracy threatens his friends, he finds his desire for justice outweighs wishful thinking about retirement. To set things right, he'll need to use a bit of what Bruce had gotten wrong while planning the Time Heist and – more importantly – internalize the words of a wise woman who once told him that sometimes, the best that we can do is to start over.
...or, the one with post-Snap/post-Blip politics, in which Bucky and Old Man Steve drink coffee while discussing existential questions with their psychoanalyst neighbor.