Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“You wanna come back with me?” Steve asked, after explaining his plan to Bucky about how he’s gonna go back to Peggy, and give Sam the shield. Bucky chuckled. “Hell no. I have everything I want right here.” Bucky said, eyes fixed on a photo of him and Sam framed on his dresser from Bucharest. “I guess you do. Thanks, Buck, I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“See you tomorrow.” and the line went dead. Bucky set his phone down, resting his head against the wall. He really did have everything he wanted. It was almost too good to be true. Sometimes he felt like he didn’t deserve this peace, this calm, this love. But he had it, so that said something. 

He heard the front door of the apartment open. Sam was home. Bucky got off the bed, making his way out of the room. 

“Hey.” Sam said from the kitchen, packing away the groceries. “Hey.” Bucky said with a smile, moving into the kitchen. “I assume you’re going tomorrow.” Bucky took a deep breath, leaning against the counter. Sam shut the fridge, abandoning the groceries. “Buck.” Sam raised an eyebrow at him, moving towards the taller man. “He hated me, Sam.” Bucky argued, which was true, Tony hated him, Bucky doubted he’d want his parent's murderer at his funeral. 

“Buck, I know you never really got to apologize for it, but he knew it wasn’t you. I’m sure during the 7 years of sitting on the information, he started thinking rationally. Steve did the same, and, uh, Nat.” Sam said quietly, a painful twinge going through his body when he muttered Nat’s name. A softer look came over Bucky’s eyes, and brought his metal hand up to brush Sam’s cheek gently. “I know. I just…” there was no good reason for Bucky to not come, and he could tell this mattered to Sam. From what Sam said, he didn’t know Tony well, but he clearly wanted to go. It was only fair to Tony. “Ok.” Bucky agreed, and Sam almost looked surprised. “Wait, really?” Sam asked, a smile creeping onto his lips. “Yeah, I’ll go.” Bucky said, a small smile on his face. “Great, but please shower, no one wants to see that greasy mop.”

Bucky’s eyes went wide in false shock. “Hey! I was snapped out of existence, if you would recall.” Bucky countered, and Sam just shook his head, moving away to go put more groceries away. “Yeah, so was I, yet I still look flawless.” Sam said with a smirk. Bucky rolled his eyes. “Can’t argue with that.” he muttered under his breath, and Sam whipped his head around. 

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Bucky said quickly, causing Sam to chuckle. Yeah, this was all Bucky needed. 

~~~~~~~~~

Sam lied in bed that night, unable to fall asleep. Between the funeral, and Nat, it was a lot. He stared at the ceiling, letting himself drown in his thoughts. It wasn’t healthy, but that’s how he had started to cope with the information. Emphasis on the not healthy part.

He still couldn't believe that Nat was gone. He didn't get to say goodbye, thank her for everything she had done for him, because she had done a lot. She would never really know what she did for him, what she meant to him. Sam felt himself breathing faster, jagged breaths, and makes an effort to calm himself down. Bucky’s head was pressed against Sam’s shoulder, and his metal arm placed over Sam’s torso, so he could easily wake up. 

“Sam?” Bucky mumbled sleepily on his shoulder, lifting his head to look at his boyfriend. “You ok?” Bucky asked, resting his chin on Sam’s shoulder. Sam took a deep breath. “Yeah, yeah, I just have a lot of things going through my mind right now.” Sam explained shortly, because he really didn’t want to go into it at 3 in the morning. “You wanna talk?” Bucky inquired. “Not tonight.” Sam replied, and Bucky nodded. “Ok, goodnight love.” 

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Right now, Sam, Bucky, Bruce and Steve stood in the forest a little ways away from what used to be the avengers compound, preparing Steve to return all the stones. Steve still looked a bit rough from the funeral, Sam didn’t really know if he should be going on a time heist, but it’s not his concern. 

“Remember you have to return all the stones to the exact moment you got ‘em, or you’re gonna open up a bunch of nasty alternative realities.” Bruce explained. “Don’t worry Bruce. Clip all the branches.”

“You know, I tried. When I had the gauntlet, the stones, I really tried to bring her back.” Sam looked at the ground, desperately wanting them to change the subject. He was still trying to process it all, and didn’t want to hear a casual conversation about her being gone. Sam looked up again, and found Bucky’s steel blue looking at him, a small smile on his lips. Sam smiled back, and quickly turned his head when he heard the conversation was over, thankfully, and Steve began to walk over. Sam followed him over, a smile still on his face. 

“You know, if you want, I could come with you.” Sam said, an eyebrow raised. Steve turned to him, a smile on his face. “You’re a good man, Sam. This one’s on me though.” Sam nodded, and watched as Steve made his way over to Bucky.

~~~~~~~~

“Sam.” Bucky called out in the frantic panic taking place. Sam looked over at Bucky, and saw a figure by the lake. He made his way over with Bucky beside him. Is that… is that Steve? “Go ahead.” Bucky said simply, and Sam turned to face him, and Bucky just smiled, looking at Sam like he hung the moon and the stars. Sam walked over to Steve, confused by this entire thing. What did he do? “Cap?”

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Try it on.” Sam was taken aback by the statement. He couldn’t… he wasn’t. He stared at the shield, before looking back at Bucky. Bucky. If anyone could help him through this it’d be Bucky. He always could give Sam advice, he’d know how to help. Bucky just nodded his head, understanding exactly what Sam was asking, only with a look. He was asking can I do this? . He could. He thinks he can. Bucky thinks he can. Sam went to pick up the shield, still a bit in shock. Well, maybe a bit was an understatement He looked down at the shield on his arms and sighed, feeling tears welling in his eyes. 

“How does it feel?”

“Like it’s someone else.” 

“It isn’t.”

Sam took a deep breath in. This was his. This was his reality. Now, he had to make a decision, and he didn’t know what he was gonna do. There were too many thought going through his head. “Thank you, I’ll do my best.” he really would. 

~~~~~~~~~~

“You knew he was gonna do that, didn’t you?” Sam asked immediately when he and Bucky hopped into Sam’s truck, headed home, the shield in the backseat. “Well, I… yes.” Bucky admitted, and Sam shook his head, chuckling softly. “How are you, with well, everything?” Bucky asked, a hand resting on Sam’s knee. Sam sighed, not taking his eyes off the road. “I- I don’t know. I mean, he’s gone. Steve’s gone. And now, now I have this giant responsibility, I don’t know how I’m gonna handle it all.” Sam said, and Bucky nodded. “You don’t have to handle it by yourself, or handle it all at the same time.”  Bucky assured him, and Sam nodded. “I know.”

The rest of the car ride was comfortable silence between them, and Sam was thankful for that. He really needed to get his thoughts figured out and organized. This was a lot for one day, and they were just getting started. 

Bucky knew to give Sam space, it was a lot to have your friend of years leaves you, followed by them giving you one of the biggest mantle someone could carry. Bucky couldn’t even imagine the stress Sam’s under. 

~~~~~~~~

Sam set the shield down on the table, and immediately collapsed onto the couch. Bucky chuckled behind him, shutting the door. He draped one of his cashmere blankets over top of Sam, and heard him sigh in content. “You need anything?” Bucky asked softly, sitting down on the ground, his head resting besides Sam on the couch. “I need a break.” Sam said, and Bucky chuckled softly. “Fair. Wanna watch Star Wars?” Bucky suggested, bringing the remote down from the table. Sam rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “How old are you?”

“Hey! I remember the day you showed me these movies, you cannot talk. You said to me ‘Say hello to Star Wars, some of the best movies in history.’”

“I did not!”

“You did!” Bucky protested, a wide grin on his face. Sam laughed, running a hand through Bucky’s hair. “That did not happen. How do you remember that?” Sam questioned, an eyebrow raised. Bucky’s grin turned into a small smile, running a hand over their coffee table. “It was the day we went furniture shopping, in Bucharest.” Bucky explained, hoping to help jog Sam’s memory. 

It clearly worked, when a fond smile slipped onto Sam’s face. “Oh, yeah.” Sam said, almost dreamily.

“You did not know how to put that bed together.” Bucky recalled, and Sam gasped in mock offence. “I did!”

“That was not where the bolt went.”

“Yes it was!”

“It most certainly was not.”

Sam rolled his eyes, laughing at how after everything, they could still remember small little things from before. Before everything happened. Bucky ended up laughing too, and they almost forgot about turning on Star Wars. Almost. 

~~~~~~~~~

They ended up falling asleep there, the credits rolling in the background, with Sam’s head on Bucky’s shoulder. Sam knew that taking on the shield was gonna be difficult, and he still wasn’t sure if he was going to take it on, but if he had Bucky, maybe everything would work out. It was a big maybe. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Chapter Text

“Sammy, hey, breath.” Bucky cooed as Sam recovered from a nightmare, shaking in Bucky’s arms. Sam didn’t even get to say goodbye. Not to Nat. Not to the Steve he knew. He could never get closure. All he wanted was to them again. Laugh with them again. See Nat smile like she always did. Hear Steve’s laugh one more time. If he could see the flash of red and blonde hair walk through the door one more time, maybe he could feel some semblance of closure. Sam held on to Bucky like a lifeline, well, he kind of is one, and cried onto his shoulder. Bucky held Sam steady, and that was all he needed. 

“I just- I just wish I got to say g-goodbye, you know?” Sam mumbled against Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky nodded, rubbing small circles on Sam’s back, then his arm. “I know Sammy. I know you do.”

“And we haven’t even,” Sam sniffed in between his words. “We haven’t even had a proper funeral for her. It’s almost been a month and nothing .” Sam muttered, tears still falling from his eyes, soaking Bucky’s shirt. Bucky couldn’t believe that. For a group of people that called each other a family, her not getting a funeral doesn’t make a lot of sense. “She have any family?” Bucky asked quietly, and didn’t know if Sam was gonna answer.

“Yeah. She had a sister. She had parents.” Sam knew it was more complicated than that, but he kept it short. Bucky took a deep breath and shook his head. “Do you think they had something? Funeral? Anything?”

Sam sighed, tears slowing. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

Bucky will. He’ll find it. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

“We’re going to Ohio.” not the weirdest sentence Sam has woken up to, but it's definitely not a normal one. “What?” Sam said, his voice heavy with sleep. He hadn’t even opened his eyes yet, and when he tried, he was met with the blinding light of his laptop on Bucky’s lap. “We’re going to Ohio.” Bucky repeated, more matter-of-factly. Sam sighed, finally sitting up.

“May I ask why?” Sam questioned, his vision still a bit blurry. “I found her. Where she is.” Sam didn’t need to ask who. Nat. He felt tears prickle his eyes. “H-how?” Sam asked, eyes finally adjusting to the plane tickets that just need to be printed out. “Took me all night.” Bucky explained, followed by a chuckle. “But I found it.” 

Sam couldn’t help but smile, a single tear rolling down his cheek. “Thank you, Buck.” Sam didn’t miss the red that rimmed his eyes, whether it was from not sleeping or crying Sam didn’t know, and he would never ask. Sam could tell that Nat’s death hit Bucky hard. Not as much as it had for Sam, but they were all friends, talking in the dead of night in the jet, pretending like the world stopped for a second. They had really connected in the 2 years. Sam laid his head on Bucky’s shoulder, staring at the screen. “Anything, my love.” 

~~~~~~~~~~

Sam and Bucky landed a little less than an hour ago, and had finally figured out here they were going. They had passed a few neighbourhoods a long the way, kids out front with Iron Man helmet’s, their shields. It made Sam think about the impact he would have if he carried the shield. That would be a lot to deal with. Sam seemed like the type of person who enjoyed social events, attention, but he loathed it. He only did it because it made him feel like he could forget. On the flip side of that, he realized that kids like him, that didn’t have someone who looked like them, could finally have a hero with their own skin colour. But he didn’t know if he could take all that responsibility. 

“We’re here, doll.” Bucky’s voice snapped him from his thoughts, and he found Bucky’s eyes, which glistened in tears he refused to shed. Sam could feel tears welling in his eyes and took a deep a breath, squeezing Bucky’s hand. “Ready?” Bucky asked, his voice shaking. Sam could only nod, feeling a lump form in his throat. Bucky smiled sadly, and they headed down the path. 

~~~~~~~~~~

As they walked through the cemetery grounds, Sam could feel tears falling from his eyes. A chilly breeze blew through the air, sending a shiver down Sam’s body. Bucky took notice and brought Sam a bit closer, also noticing the small tears welling in the chocolate brown eyes. Wordlessly, Bucky stopped to wipe the tears from Sam’s cheeks. Sam smile sadly at the brunette, and they kept walking. 

They thought that it was a lost cause, until they saw a blonde stand beneath a tree, placing a photo down of a familiar red head. Sam and Bucky exchanged a nervous look and approached the grave slowly. 

“Who are you?” the woman had a thick Russian accent, and her tone sounded bitter, but they could both see the tear drops on the photo. “We were friends of Natasha. We found out that-”

“Let me guess, you both are avengers?” she interrupted Sam’s explanation, her voice sounding disgusted at the word avengers. “I- more or less.” Sam replied, and she chuckled dryly, turning around. “I thought you were supposed to protect her.” she said tearfully, and Sam could tell she’s spent an awfully long time crying. “So did I.” Sam admitted, because truthfully, he thought that's what they were. He thought they were a family, who protected each other, who bled for each other, he cared for each other. But Natasha is gone. And Sam sees no sign of any other avenger on the headstone. No photo of her with Clint and his kids. Nothing from Maria or Fury. Nothing from Bruce. He thought they were family. But apparently that was a lie. Because family never forgets family. And they’ve all forgotten their greatest friend, their leader. Their Widow. 

She must’ve picked up on Sam and Bucky’s red eyes, because her face soften just a bit. “I, um, I’m sorry. I just didn’t expect any of you to come down. I’m Yelena.” she said, softer this time. “Don’t be sorry, we understand. I’m Sam.”

“Bucky.” Bucky added with a small wave. She smiled at them. “So, how did you two know her?” she questioned, a bit timid. “Well I was an avenger for about a year and a bit, then I went on the run with her for two years. Bonding, you know.” Sam explained, a small smile on his face. Yelena chuckled softly, and turned her head to Bucky. “You?” 

“Well, I also went on the run with them, kind of.” Bucky explained. Yelena nodded her head, a small smile on her face. “I’m, uh, I’m really sorry we didn’t reach out. Honestly, we figured you’d have your own thing for her.”

“So did we.” Bucky said, and caught Sam trying to blink back his tears. So did Yelena. “Thank you, for coming. My- my sister really loved you guys, even if you were trying to kill each other.” she said, followed by a small chuckle. Bucky thought back to his first interaction with Natasha.

“It happens.” 

She chuckled and made her way back down the path with a wave, leaving Sam and Bucky alone.

“Hey, you ok?” Bucky asked gently, pulling Sam a bit closer, wrapping an arm around him. Sam sucked in a shaky breath and nodded. “Yeah, it’s just a lot. To be here. To meet her sister.” Sam replied, leaning on Bucky. 

Bucky pressed a kiss to the top of Sam’s head. He fiddled with the locket in his hand. Inside, instead of the picture of Sam and Bucky beside Sam and his family, it was the 4 of them on the jet, smiling and happy. For the most part. “You ready?” Bucky asked.

Wordlessly, Sam took the locket from Bucky’s hand and made his way towards the headstone. He opened the locket one more time, seeing Natasha smiling back at him. Tears rolled down his cheeks, and he fell to the ground, clutching the locket close to his heart. She should be here. They should be laughing together again. She gave her life for them to stand here today, and it wasn’t fair that she couldn’t be with them right now. She was like a rock for Sam, someone he knew he could always fall back on, and he was the same thing to her. She had a family. She had 2. Goddammit, Sam just wants her back. He barely registered Bucky’s arms wrap around him, and whispered what would be comforting words if Sam could hear what he was saying. 

It wasn’t just Nat’s death hitting him hard, it was every single headstone he’d seen with the name of someone he loved. Sam had seen enough of those to last him a lifetime, and yet he still sat here, Nat only smiling at him in dreams and nightmares. He let Bucky pull him close to his chest, the locket falling in the leaves in front of the grave. 

“I miss her so much, Buck.” Sam said through sobs, his words choked up and broken. Bucky nodded, rubbing Sam’s back, feeling tears prickle his eyes. “I do to, Sammy, I do to.” he whispered.

Eventually, they place the locket up against the cold concrete, the locket closed, so the picture doesn’t get damaged too much. The walk to the airport was silent, only the odd sniffle from Sam or Bucky. It was for the better, Sam assumed. 

They walked hand in hand through the neighbourhood, and caught a kid gaping at them. Bucky looked at Sam with worry in his eyes and Sam held his breath. 

“Mom, I didn’t know boys can hold each other boys hands. That’s so cool!”

Bucky’s eyes went wide in surprise, and Sam couldn’t help but grin. “Welcome to the twenty-first century, Buck.” Sam said, and heard Bucky chuckle from beside him. “Guess so.” Bucky sounded a bit breathless. Sam squeezed Bucky hand, swinging their hands slowly. That felt… that was an undescribable moment. Maybe they needed a Captain America who loved like them, too. But Sam still didn’t know if that could be him. 

Chapter Text

In hindsight, going outside on a particularly cold day with nothing but a hoodie, paired with getting little to no sleep, would inevitably lead to Sam getting a cold. That’s why Sam is bundled in about 3 blankets, courtesy of Bucky, and why a mug filled to the rim with tea sits beside him on his bedside table, also courtesy of Bucky. “Buck, I’m fine, it’s just a cold.” Sam said, followed by a sneeze. Bucky made a face of yeah right and threw the tissue box at Sam. “Thanks.” Sam said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Bucky snickered, and grabbed his jacket from the closet. Sam raised an eyebrow. “Where are you going?” Sam questioned, siting up a bit more to grab the tea. “Groceries.” Bucky answered casually, an innocent look on his face. Sam scoffed in offence. 

“What happened to you mother henning me?”

“What? I thought you were fine, and it was just a cold.” Bucky replied, a smirk on his face. Sam rolled his eyes, throwing the tissue box at Bucky in annoyance. “Go get your goddamn plums, Barnes. And throw that back.” Sam added the lost part quietly, causing Bucky to laugh and toss the tissue box back to him. Sam grumbled something about being left alone and closed his eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky walked back into the apartment about 20 minutes later to a sleeping Sam in the other room. The apartment wasn’t big by any means, so he moved as quietly not to wake Sam up. Him being an ex assassin, it always works pretty well. 

Once he finished putting away all the groceries, he made his way over to his bedroom, and passed their Home is where the heart is sign . Pressed onto the wooden sign are two sticky notes. One reads: Your heart is in your body but ok . Bucky was very proud of that. Sam was not, as he had stuck on one that said: Buck why? 

Bucky loves the sign. He chuckled softly to himself as he entered the apartment. He leaned against the door frame, a small smile on his face. Sam looked so peaceful when he slept, which made sense, but he looked so relaxed, like the world didn’t weigh on his shoulders. Even in their most carefree moment, Bucky had never seen Sam as calm as he is while he was sleeping. Sam’s eyes fluttered open, immediately landing on Bucky. 

“Hello.” Bucky said softly. Sam rolled his eyes, a grin spreading over his lips. “You’re staring again.” Sam pointed out, his voice hoarse, and Bucky didn’t look away. “It’s not like you’re a bad thing to stare at.” Sam laughed loudly, shaking his head. “Yeah, alright.” Bucky grinned at him, small laughs escaping his lips. “You just gonna stand there?” Sam asked pointedly, sniffling a bit. “What’s the issue with it? You cold?” 

“Yes.”

Bucky scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Sam, you have three blankets-”

“Because of you.” Sam interrupted in a pointed tone, even pointing a finger at Bucky to prove his point. Bucky laughed, tilting his head up. “True, true.” Bucky raised his hands up defensively, and grabbed his sweater from the corner of the room and threw it at Sam. “I’ll be in the kitchen making dinner if you want some.” Bucky said as he walked out the door, and Sam knew that was more of a warning than an invitation. Sam pulled the sweater over his head and he pushed all the blankets off of him.

“I knew you wouldn’t leave me to cook alone.”

“It was a safety concern more than anything.” Sam joked, followed by a cough. Bucky rolled his eyes a smile on his face all the while smiled at him as he scrolled through his phone sitting at the counter. “Where’s the food?” Sam questioned slowly, eyes scanning the room. “Oh, yeah, we’re not cooking. You’re sick, and I probably could if you’d-”

“You could not-”

“So, I just ordered us take out. You’re welcome.” Bucky said, setting his phone down on the counter. Sam rolled his eyes, an exasperated sigh coming from his lips. Bucky chuckled as he made his way over to the couch. “Fine. But we’re watching Friends-”

Sam was cut off by none other than the Friends theme playing from the TV, and Sam’s eyes drifted to a smirking Bucky Barnes. “You’re very predictable when sick, Sammy.” Bucky said matter-of-factly, and Sam shook his head, trudging over to the couch, a small pout on his face. 

“You’re mean.” Sam muttered against Bucky’s neck, and he heard Bucky chuckle. “You aren’t too nice yourself.”

“Hey! I’m sick.”

“You ate my last plum!”

“That was in retaliation for you finishing off the mustard.” Sam countered matter-of-factly, thinking it would make a difference in this ridiculous argument. Bucky's head was leaned all the way back, laughing loudly and clearly. “You are ridiculous.” Bucky said between his laughter, and he felt Sam laughing against his neck. That led to Sam having a coughing fit; as he was still sick. That just made Bucky laugh louder, and Sam whacked him in the arm. Repeatedly.

“You are mean!” Sam cried between coughs. Bucky laughed louder, his stomach starting to hurt he was laughing so hard. Sam glared at him, finally starting to calm down. 

“Would you like a Halls?” Bucky asked caringly, but Sam could tell there was some mockery in his tone. “Yes.” Sam answered stiffly, and Bucky snickered as he got up from the couch and went into the bathroom to search for their Halls. 

He returned a few moments later, launching the package of candies at Sam. In return; Sam threw him a glare while catching the package. Bucky smirked, siring himself down beside his boyfriend with a huff. Sam rolled his eyes, opening the bag and popped two of the candies into his mouth. His face scrunched up in disgust, and Bucky couldn’t help but think it looked adorable. 

“These are disgusting.”

“They’re not.”

“Why didn’t you grab the grapefruit one?” Sam asked with his arms crossed over his chest. Bucky scoffed and laid down, his head in Sam’s lap. “They don’t work as well.”

“At least they’re not absolute garbage in a wrapper.” Sam argued, his hands falling in Bucky’s long hair. Bucky sighed, a small smile on his face. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes just like that, Sam running his fingers through Bucky’s hair, while Bucky stared at Sam. He had gained a staring problem courtesy of Hydra, and it had doubled around Sam. Because Bucky was a lovesick dumbass, and he couldn’t take his eyes off Sam. Bucky really loved Sam. All his life he thought that his last moments would be in battle, but now he could only think of them being with Sam. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky had fallen asleep, but Sam couldn’t seem to fall asleep, no matter how long he lies there, he couldn’t fall asleep. Sam's eyes darted across the room, and eventually, his eyes landed on the desk that was sitting there collecting dust, except for the pile of journals that belonged to Bucky. Sam knew there was a journal full of letters to him, so he figured if there was nothing he could do, he might as well read some.

After flipping past a few blank pages, he found a letter dated May 26, 2016. 2 days after Sam had been put in the Raft, he remembered it clear as day. His eyes fell to the words written below.

Sam, 

After being thrown back into the fight, I realized something. All my life I thought my only love was war, my fate was to end in a bloody battle, whether the war was inside or out. But, you are more beautiful than war, you are my fate, you are my only love. You’re more painful than war, and you’re more of a relief than peace. Your words heal the pain of war, but your shoulders carry that very same pain like it’s a part of you. Well, maybe it is. But I love you all the same, because maybe I fell out of love with war, but I could never fall out of love with you.

Yours, J.B

Sam was so mesmerized by what he had read that he barely registered a pair of arms wrapping around his torso. “Hi.” Bucky murmured into his ear. “Hey. Sorry if I woke you up.” Sam muttered. “Don’t worry, I’m a light sleeper, Sammy.”  Bucky reminded him, a small smile on his lips, and his head resting on Sam’s shoulder. Sam smiled, closing the notebook he had open. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” Bucky guessed, and Sam nodded with a sigh. Bucky hummed, a silence passing over them both. “I really love your writing, Buck.” Sam muttered, running a thumb over the notebook with his name written at the top in faded sharpie. “Well, it’s fun, it’s stress relieving. For both of us, evidently.” Bucky said, and Sam chuckled softly. 

“C’mon, you should at least try to sleep.” Bucky urged, moving away from Sam for a moment, just to grab Sam’s hand. Sam sighed, but obliged, and let Bucky drag him back to bed. He let himself be wrapped in Bucky’s arms.  He didn’t mind, they both always had a peaceful sleep like that. As Sam drifted off to sleep, all he could think about was how similar Bucky and his lives are. Sure, Bucky was brainwashed for 70 years, and prior to that; fought in World War 2. But all their lives, they fought in a war, inside and out. And Sam always thought the same thing Bucky had; that he would die in war, that his fate was always war. But that had proven to be incorrect, completely incorrect. His fate was peace, his fate was Bucky.

Chapter Text

It had been about 2 weeks since Sam got sick, and he had finally recovered about a week ago. He walked into the apartment with a few bags of groceries in each hand, and finds it empty. Bucky’s not in the kitchen, nor the living room. Which is odd, that’s where Sam always finds him. “Buck?” Sam called out, setting the bags down. An irrational twinge of fear shot through Sam’s body when Bucky didn’t respond.

Then, Sam heard the creak of the bathroom door. Bucky emerged wearing Sam’s sweatshirt, holding clumps of hair in his hand, and his hair cut short, but really choppy. “Um, I did a dumb thing.” Bucky said shyly, gesturing to his hands with a nod of his head. Sam chuckled softly. “I see that.” 

“Help?” it came out as a question, but Sam knew it was a request. “I am most definitely helping you clean up whatever you got going on.” Sam agreed making his way towards the bathroom. Bucky would normally come up with a snarky comeback, but he really needed help fixing his hair. “Thank you.” Bucky said, his tone genuine, because, again, his hair was a mess. 

Once Sam got Bucky situated on their bed and got all the necessary hair care products, he started the process. “So why’d you cut it, anyway?” Sam questioned, brushing the knots out of Bucky’s hair. Bucky sighed, and Sam could tell it was a little deeper than just disliking how his hair looked. “I- I didn’t recognize who I saw. I also think its- its him. So, I cut it. Not well, obviously, but I felt like I had to.” Bucky explained, a sad smile on his face. Sam had the same one and only responded with a kiss to Bucky’s temple. 

“You’re not him.”

“I know, I know.” Bucky said, another sigh following it. “I just- I don’t know.” Sam nodded his head, setting down the hairbrush. “I know, Buck. I know what you mean.” Sam said softly, grabbing the scissors from beside him. They stayed silent, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Sam did know what Bucky meant. He didn’t want something that reminded him of when he was The Solider. 

~~~~~~~~~

It didn’t take long for Sam to finish, maybe 15 minutes. Sam cleans everything up, and brings out a mirror and hands it to Bucky. He ran a hand through the brunettes freshly cut hair, and smiled. He took a seat beside Bucky and rested his head on the taller man's shoulder, wrapping an arm around his waist. “What do ya think?” Sam asked, his breath tickling Bucky’s neck. Bucky smiled, running a hand through it. He really loved it. It wasn’t The Soldier, it wasn’t whoever he was from the 40s, it was someone new. It was him. It was the Bucky that Sam knew, it was Jamie, it was Buckaroo. It was this new person who was lost in time, but found in Sam’s arms.

“I love it. Thank you, Sammy.” Bucky said, almost sounding breathless. Sam smiled against his skin. “Good. You look like Rapunzel at the end of Tangled” Sam mumbled, causing Bucky to laugh. He set the mirror down, still laughing. Sam grinned, and they both stayed like that, living in their own world. It was a good world. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Eventually, they made their way out to the living room, Sam cooking up dinner in their abnormally small kitchen, and Bucky reading at the counter. Sam has bought Bucky the Harry Potter series, and Bucky’s currently on book 6. It’s a whirlwind of emotions. Sam’s favourite moment of watching his boyfriend read this series is him angrily yelling at Snape throughout the second and third book. Sam thought he caught him cursing Snape out in Russian a few times. It was probably more entertaining than reading them. 

“What? No!” Sam heard Bucky yell from behind him, and turned around, a smirk on his face. “What happened?” Sam asked, leaning against the counter. “Oh you know nothing huge just Snape killing Dumbledore.” he got progressively louder as he went on, and Sam grinned at the genuine exasperation and anger that his boyfriend had over this book. “Oh, yeah. Just wait until the next book.” Sam told him, and Bucky raised an eyebrow at him. “Should I be worried?” Bucky questioned, and Sam nodded, going over to turn off the stove.

“Big time.” he replied, plating the dinner of gumbo he had just made, setting one in front of Bucky. Bucky nodded in thanks, and put his bookmark in, setting The half-blood prince down. “So, how do you like Harry Potter?” Sam asked, head tilted a bit. Bucky nodded, taking a bite of his food. “It’s good, it’s interesting. They really don’t want this kid to have a father figure, apparently.” Sam chuckled, taking another bite of his food. “Favourite book?” Sam questioned.

“Order of the Phoenix, obviously.” Bucky answered, and Sam’s eyebrows furrowed. “Obviously? Hell nah, Prisoner of Azkaban.” 

Bucky’s eyes went wide, shaking his head. “Sam, I love you, but I think we need to break up. If you’re gonna say your favourite Harry Potter book is Prisoner of Azkaban, I think we should see other people.” Bucky said in a playful tone, clearly joking. Sam rolled his eyes, catching Bucky’s smirk. “What’s not to like? It’s an interesting book, changing the tone of playful ‘hey look they’re kids’ to ‘yeah there's a murderer on the loose and a werewolf as a teacher’. Not to mention it introduced dementors, Lupin, Sirius, Peter, and, not for nothing, but also time travel.” 

“Don’t get me started on the time travel in that book.” Bucky said between bites of his food. Sam shook his head, sighing in exasperation. “You’re impossible. It made sense. It was a good book, you just like flashy things.”

“No, that’s not why it’s not my favourite.”

“Fine, why don’t you like it?” Sam asked, and Bucky sighed. “I never said I didn’t like it. It’s just- it doesn’t have enough things going on.” Sam gaped at him. Out of everything he could’ve said, he said that. “Oh, I’m sorry, is the falsely accused murderer, werewolf teacher and time travel not enough for you?” Sam asked sarcastically. Bucky gave him his signature not the point look. Sam gave him an explain yourself look in return, and Bucky seemingly understood what he meant. 

“This is really good, you haven’t made it before, have you?” Bucky said, gesturing to his food with his fork, trying so hard to hide his smirk.

“I haven’t made it, I was looking through- No, no, no, you can’t change the subject on me that quickly.” Sam interrupted himself once he caught on to what Bucky was doing. The idiot had a giant grin on his face, laughing loudly. “You can see through the lies of the Jedi, can you?” Bucky said with the same grin, and at that moment, Sam knew he was in love with him. Well, there’s been a thousand moments, but each one makes it even clearer than the last. Sam loved him. He laughed loudly, making his way over to Bucky.

Bucky could listen to Sam laugh over and over again, and he’d never get tired of it. He would never get tired of how his eyes almost close, making his eyelashes brush against his cheeks, his smile wide, showing his gap tooth Bucky adores. He loves every part of Sam, but his laugh is one of his favourite. It’s comforting, it’s beautiful, it’s Sam’s. His eyes followed as Sam made his way over to him, and Bucky raised his eyebrow. “I love you.” Sam mumbled, a grin still on his face. He brought up his hand up to cup Bucky’s face. He pressed his lips to Bucky’s, and couldn’t help but smile. 

When they broke apart, Bucky looked at him with flustered confusion. “What was that for?”

“You.”

“I asked ‘what’ not ‘who’ but alright.” Bucky quipped, and Sam chuckled. “Hm, too bad.” Sam hummed. Bucky tilted his head slightly, a small smile on his face, it looked soft, inviting. “You’re beautiful.” Sam heard Bucky mutter, and Sam rolled his eyes, feeling a blush creep up his neck. Bucky chuckled softly, always expecting that reaction from Sam. He wasn’t good at taking compliments. 

~~~~~~~~~~

After dinner, Bucky went back to reading, on the couch this time, lying on Sam’s chest as a record played softly in the background. Sam was humming to the music quietly, as he watched Bucky’s face relax like it always did when he was reading. His eyes were soft and focused, passing over every word. The tension in his jaw was gone, and it made him look a bit younger, a bit more like the pictures in the file Sam had all those years ago. His lips slightly parted as he focused on what he was reading. 

Sam’s eyes flashed over to the shield in the corner of the room, and the familiar feeling of anxiety and panic rushed through his body. He had pushed the thought of the shield from his mind. He just wanted to be sure he would make the right decision. And he needed someone to have his back. “Hey, Buck?” Sam said softly, and Bucky perked his head up from his book and looked at Sam. “Yeah?” 

Sam took a deep breath, and he could tell that Bucky knew he was under stress, Bucky just didn’t know why. “Whatever happens with the shield, you’ll be there, right? You’ll- you’ll have my back, yeah?” Sam asked, and Bucky’s face softened, closing his book. “Of course, Sammy, I promise, I always got your back.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Promises are easily broken.

Chapter Text

For 2 weeks, Sam contemplated what he was going to do with the shield. He couldn’t take it, it was the right thing. For him. For his family. He’d give it to the Smithsonian, because it was what he thinks is right. And it’s his decision. Steve gave him this shield, and he trusted him to make a decision. So he was making his decision. He just… there’s too many risks.

Bucky didn’t know why Sam asked that, he should’ve known Bucky would be with him, no matter what. In every battle. He followed Cap through thick and thin, and most importantly, he followed Sam through thick and thin. But what Bucky didn’t know was that wasn’t what Sam meant. He’d find out soon enough, whether he’d like it is the real question. 

~~~~~~~~~

“I don’t think I can do it.” Sam muttered one night over dinner, as he stared at the shield leaned up against the wall. Bucky furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, looking up from his plate. “What?” Bucky asked, because he genuinely had no clue what Sam was talking about. “The shield. Being- being the symbol of America. I can’t- I can’t do it. I’m giving up the shield.” Sam said, his voice a bit shaky, but he kept his tone firm and confident. He couldn’t, it was too much. Everything that would be riding on his back, all the expectations, everyone who wouldn’t accept him as he was, those who wouldn’t allow him to be Captain America just because of his skin colour. He already had a lot to deal with, he couldn’t add this to his plate. 

“What.” it wasn’t a question, it was a statement. Bucky sounded a bit breathless, shocked at what Sam had said. He couldn’t meet Bucky’s eye, he didn’t want to. He didn’t need to see what Bucky had to say. It was Sam’s decision, he was just informing Bucky. “I can’t do it, Buck.”

“Sam, Steve gave you that shield.”

Sam finally met Bucky’s eye. “So I get to choose what I do. And I know I can’t carry that burden. So I’m handing it over.” Bucky scoffed, and Sam could feel irritation bubbling in him. Why Bucky was getting so worked up about this, Sam would never know. It was his own decision, not Bucky’s, he couldn’t tell Sam what to do.

“We need a Captain America, Sam, everyone does. It has to be you.” Bucky countered, and Sam could see the flash of anger in his eye. Sam just needed Bucky to understand. “Well it can’t be me, Buck.”

“I don’t understand why this decision is so difficult for you. Sam, you are Captain America. Steve left it for you, he knew you, you knew you’d take the shield. And now what? You wanna throw it aside like- like it’s nothing?” of course Bucky doesn’t understand. He wouldn’t, Sam knew he could never truly understand why Sam couldn’t take up the mantle. But he could at least try. If Bucky could never at least try to understand why Sam couldn’t do this, then whatever was between them was over. “Ok, first of all, this is my decision. I’m making it. And don’t bring Steve into this for god’s sake. He’s not here. And no, I guess you don’t understand. And if you don’t, I guess that’s fine, but if you can’t even respect my decisions, if can’t let me make decisions on my own, then I guess-” Sam took a deep breath before speaking.

“I guess this is over.” Sam said, stammering on his words. He didn’t want it to be over, but Bucky was being unreasonable. Why couldn’t he just let Sam make his own decisions?

Bucky’s head was spinning. Over? Just because of this dumb shield? “Over?” Bucky stuttered, standing up from his chair. Sam sighed in a mix of frustration and anger. “If you can’t respect my decisions, then yes. Over.” Sam said firmly, trying so hard to keep his cool. “I just don’t understand-”

“So? Buck, you said that you’d have my back in whatever I wanted to do. Whatever I needed to do, you’d follow along.” Sam said, finally rising up from his chair, letting all his anger pool out onto his words. Bucky pulled at his newly cut short hair, letting a dry chuckle escape from his lips. “So that’s it. Just because I don’t see eye to eye with this one thing? Seems a bit unreasonable to me.” Bucky was so close to yelling, but he kept it steady. For now.

Sam didn’t know what Bucky’s definition of ‘unreasonable’ was, but it certainly was not the same was Sam’s. Unreasonable? Unreasonable was not what Sam was being, and he knew it. “ One small thing ? This is the mantle of Captain America for god’s sake-”

“Well-”

“And unreasonable? I’ll tell you what unreasonable is. Unreasonable is you not respecting what I would like to do with my life. Because, believe it or not, I’m putting my life on the line if I pick up that shield. I’m putting the life of everyone I love on the line. I’d have everything crashing down on me. The weight of the world, the weight of my community, on my shoulders.”

“I can help you, I promise-”

“No. You can’t. Because I’m not taking the shield. And you need to at least respect that. I know you’ll never fully understand why I can’t take the title and that’s- that’s whatever. But stop making empty promises to me.” tears streamed down Sam’s face, angry, burning tears. But all Sam could feel was how much he hated this. Hated this fight, hated this situation. 

“What empty promises?” Bucky asked bitterly, and Sam rolled his eyes. Bucky wasn’t backing down. “You said you’d have my back, no matter what. You said you’ll always be with me. You said everything would be fine. You promised all those things. And guess what? Nothing is fine, Buck. Look around at the world. At us. I lost everyone, and I thought I’d never lose you. Because that’s what you promised. But you- you can’t let me make my own decision. Not without making it about you. So yeah, I’m done with the empty promises. With the lying. I can’t do it. Any of it.” Sam’s words were broken, his voice shaky but defiant. He needed Bucky to hear him.

“Sam, that’s ridiculous.” 

Sam blinked at him, honest to god stunned by Bucky’s reaction. “Ridiculous? Ridiculous? You wanna know what’s ridiculous?”

“What?” Bucky spat out angrily, his eyes dark and filled with rage. “What’s ridiculous Sam? What is it?”

“What’s ridiculous is that I believed it. You told me you were a man of your word, but I guess that was just another lie, another one of your promises that broke easier than glass crashing to the ground. You made me live in a dream world, where nothing was wrong, and it was simple. Another lie, because everything is going wrong. What I thought was relief is really now just a ruse. And I don’t want to believe your dumb tricks anymore.”

“So we’re through. Is that what I’m hearing?”

“Yeah, yeah it is. Sorry to be such a disappointment. Goodbye, Buck.” Sam didn’t wait to hear a farewell, he just turned and left, slamming the door behind him. Dammit. Sam didn’t know where to go. He was too mad, he was too upset, it was just all too much. He needed air. Well, he needed a lot more than that, but it’s start. 

It was pouring rain when Sam reached outside, and felt a shiver run through his spine. The coldness of the rain mixed with his hot, salty tears and Sam’s vision blurred as he made his way through the parking lot. Bucky wouldn’t be there. Bucky didn’t even try to understand. Bucky didn’t shut up for once in his goddamn life and just let Sam make a decision. And now, now it was over. Sam knew he’d regret it later, but right now, he was too angry, he was too hurt to think about that. 

The air was cold, normal for late December. Combined with the chill in the air and the pouring rain, this wasn’t the best decision. He rested his head against his truck, leaning to the side a bit, letting his tears fall and a sob escape. He hoped that maybe, just maybe, Bucky would wrap him up in his arms. He would mutter comforting words, make him tea and wrap him in blankets upon blankets. They’d smile, and every would be ok. If Sam had his head a bit clearer, he might’ve realized this is more of a memory than a wish. 

~~~~~~~~~

Bucky stared at the door in disbelief. Sam was gone. He was gone. Bucky didn’t know how long it had been, and he didn’t really care. Somewhere, deep down, Bucky knows this was his fault. But he’s stubborn, he’s persistent, and he doesn’t like being wrong. So he’s gonna blame Sam. He shouldn’t be, but in all his anger, all his pain, he’ll shift the blame. That’s all he’s ever done, but he’s normally shifted on himself. But he can’t bare to think about the fact that because of him, Sam isn’t here, Sam is hurt. He’s not going to accept that, because he doesn’t want to. Which is extremely childish. 

Bucky can barely move, tears running down his face. He sees the shield in from the corner of his eye, and suddenly a larger anger spikes in him. He grabs it and tosses it into his and Sam’s bedroom, and it lands on the bed, making a sound that makes Bucky think something got damaged by the force of him throwing it.

~~~~~~~~~~

Sam drives until he feels his eyelids getting heavy, and stops at the nearest motel, not wanting to even think about go back to the apartment. He couldn’t, not tonight, at least. He got a room and barely stopped to peel off his soaked shirt before he crashed onto the bed. He only realized now how cold he was, and the dusty duvet didn’t do much. He shivered a bit under the duvet and curled up into a ball. He just wished that this was all a bad dream, and Bucky would come and wrap Sam in his arms, handing him a hoodie. Oh, god, what is he doing? He’s supposed to be pissed at Bucky, well no, he’s well past being pissed at Bucky. So why is he missing him? It’s ridiculous. And he has every right to be angry. Bucky couldn’t even let Sam make his own decisions without making it about him, Sam doesn’t think that warrants an apology. Because it doesn’t. Nothing could convince Sam that he was in the wrong, that he needed to say sorry. He couldn’t be Cap, he just- he couldn’t do it. So, tonight Sam fell asleep alone, shaking from the cold, and more importantly, from the pain. The pain in his heart.

~~~~~~~~

The next day, Sam figured he should grab his stuff from the apartment. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to approach it. He still didn’t want to see Bucky, but he kind of needed his clothes. So, he figured he’d be mature about it, tell Bucky he needed to get his stuff, and leave. He didn’t know where he’d go, maybe back to Louisiana, Sam doesn’t know. 

~~~~~~~~

Sam pulled into the apartment complex and sighed, having to steady himself a bit. Slowly, he made his way into the apartment building and up the stairs to his and- to Bucky’s apartment. Once he got to the door, he was about to knock, but his eyes fell to the shield lying on top of his bag, all his clothes and things stuff into it. On top of it, a yellow sticky note that had the words See ya, Cap . Sam scoffed, and ignored the tears prickling in his eyes. No, this was dumb. He grabbed the bag and shield with a huff. He roughly wiped away his tears with the back of his hand and continued out the building.

~~~~~~~~~

Bucky froze as he heard footsteps from outside his door, and then he heard a scoff that he recognized as Sam’s. Bucky’s eyes were rimmed red from crying, he had all the lights off and his curtains pulled closed. He was sitting on the couch, eyes glued to the black TV screen. Once he hears Sam walk away, he lets out a breath, and shuts his eyes. Was the note petty and passive-aggressive? Yep. But Bucky didn’t care. Because he messed up, but he’s not going to admit that until it’s too late.

~~~~~~~~

“Sarah? I’m gonna come back home.” 

Home, Sam was gonna go home.

Chapter Text

Sam’s truck rolled onto the gravel road, and a wave of nostalgia hit him. He caught glimpses of his childhood, memories pooling into his mind. He hears the sound of a door open and turns to see his sister rushing out of the house. Sam can’t help but grin as he opens the truck door and jumps out, almost getting tackled by his sister. He breathed out a few laughs, and hears her laugh as well. “What the hell took you so long?” 

Sam sighed, and they broke apart, walking into the house. “I’ve, uh, I’ve been busy.” Sam said quietly, and Sarah could see that something was wrong, but she didn’t bring it up. Not yet, at least. “Boys.” Sarah called out as they walked into the kitchen. Sam had to steady himself against the wall as his eyes darted around the room. He hadn’t been here, since, he doesn’t know. Probably since AJ was 1, maybe 1 and a half. “Uncle Sam? Uncle Sam!” Cass called out as he rushed down the stairs, AJ on his heel. Sam’s breath hitched. He couldn’t believe it. They were grown up. When he last saw them, in person, AJ could barely talk, and Cass never stopped talking. Now, now they were grown up. And Sam missed it. He missed everything. Of course. He didn’t even recognize them.

 He felt 2 pairs of arms wrap around him, and he thought that he would be okay. Because he’s got family again. Something he hasn’t had for a long time, if the past few months are any indication. 

~~~~~~~~

It was clear that AJ and Cass’ memory of him was a bit foggy. Little things that hit Sam right where it hurt. They were a little shy, no, actually, they were really shy. They were hesitant to invite him to play on their PS4, they were a bit quiet when they talked to him. 

And it was the worst thing Sam’s had to experience. It hurt more than any bullet, any blade. It hit him in the heart, and his heart has taken a beating in the past few days. Sam knew it wasn’t his fault, whether he heard himself tell him that or Bucky, he didn’t know. 

 Some part of Sam’s brain replayed the words Bucky said to him. They wouldn’t blame you. With everything that you have to deal with, they could never blame you. Our life is so unfair, every part of it, that it’s really hard to blame us for what has happened. He didn’t know how to feel about it.

But he did know, after years of struggling with guilt, with grief, he finally was back home. He wouldn’t miss any more of his nephews lives, and he would stay by Sarah’s side for as long as he could. Because she needed him, and frankly, he needed her. 

Right now, he sat in the old spare room, staring at the floor. How could he have done this? He missed huge parts of his family’s life, and why? Because he put everyone in front of himself and his family. He was an avenger, to protect people. He was snapped from existence, because they couldn’t do it. They couldn’t protect people this time. Before that, he was busy pouring his heart and soul into that damn relationship. He spent a year with Bucky, having his back, lying for him, just for Bucky to throw it all away for a giant dinner plate.   

Sam hadn’t noticed Sarah knocking at the door, he hadn’t noticed her sit down. He hadn’t even noticed he was crying until he felt her soft touch brushing away the tears. “Sam.” she said softly, her tone wasn’t one with pity, for the most part, it was one with sympathy. Sam smiled sadly, still not meeting her eyes, instead his eyes followed as her hand fell from his face to her lap. “I don’t blame you, and neither do they.” god, Sarah knew exactly what he was thinking. “But I do.”

“Don’t.” Sarah said firmly, and Sam knew he shouldn’t. He knew it would hurt him even more if he kept blaming himself. “I don’t- I don’t know what to do, Sar.” Sam muttered weakly. “I feel like you do. You gotta- you gotta make yourself present. They missed you. When you stopped calling, when we found out that you were going on the run, they never stopped asking when you’d call again. They really missed you, Sam.” 

Sam sighed, nodding his head. “I wish- I wish I could take it all back. I wish after that one mission I did with Steve, I wish I came back. I should’ve come back.” Sam said, a watery chuckling following it. “It wasn’t worth it.” 

Sarah hummed. “You could never back down from a fight, Sam. I know you.” Sarah said, a soft smile on her face. Sam shook his head. “I know. But it wasn’t a fight. It was…” Sam trailed off, because he didn’t know what it was. He certainly couldn’t explain it to Sarah in this state. But he knew she’d understand. She had that knowing look on her face that told Sam enough. 

“What did you do?” she asked playfully, and Sam chuckled. “I don’t know. I thought- I thought it was set in stone. But nothing ever is, I guess.” 

“I don’t think you believe that.” 

“Sarah, I’ve believed that for a long time.” Sam confessed, because he did. He knew nothing was truly set in stone, after everything, it became evidently clear that nothing was forever. There was a brief moment of bliss when Sam thought he and Bucky; that was forever. But even the brightest days hide the worst truths. Sometimes the brightest smile shouts the loudest. He lost just about everything, just about everyone. Sarah and the boys was all he had. It might not be forever, but he’d try, he’d try to make it forever. Make it feel like it was for forever.

“Were you planning on telling me about em’?” Sarah’s voice shook him from his thoughts. Sam grinned, finally, and shook his head. “Not yet.” probably not ever. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky sat alone in his stupid apartment. He had stuffed everything in the bedroom, or he sold it. Wasn’t worth keeping. This was all too familiar of a story from a few years. Except, in that version, Sam came back. And Bucky didn’t think Sam was coming back. Not for a long, long time. Maybe ever, Bucky doesn’t know. He does know, however, that he hasn’t left the apartment in 2 days. He’s barely eaten, only small things, maybe oatmeal, and that’s it. He hasn’t spoken a single word in 2 days. He’s cried, there’s evidence of that. His eyes brimmed red, the tissues surrounding him. He just- he wished it could stop. He wished he could stop hurting. He hasn’t had nightmares, probably because he’s barely slept, but he’s just waiting for them to strike. He’s still blaming Sam, and he should know it’s wrong. Because it is. Sam did nothing wrong, he only spoke his mind. And now he’s gone. Because Bucky pushed him away. Bucky denied Sam his choices, his rights, and now he’s paying for it. 

Somewhere, Bucky is fully aware he is in the wrong, but it’s buried deep down by frustration, guilt, and anger. One day, he’ll crack, and he’s praying he can get it over with sooner than later. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Sam sat on his front porch, watching the sunrise. He had a nightmare he couldn’t shake. He hated that it was about Bucky. He hated watching Bucky die. Over and over. And this time, Sam didn’t wake up next to the brunette to make sure he was alright. Sam could only feel the warmth of the sun comfort him, and yet he still shivered in the early air. 

Sam didn’t know when he started crying, maybe he’s been crying all morning, but he cries. He cries for everyone, everything. For his parents, who would’ve loved to see who he became. For Riley, for what they could’ve been. For Nat, who didn’t deserve to die, she shouldn’t have died just for all of them to grieve. For Steve, for the fact that he really never found true happiness for the best of 13 years. For Sarah, who had to do everything alone, raise her kids, manage a business, and deal with the grief of loosing everyone, year after year. Alone. For Bucky, for what they should’ve been, for what they had. For every memory of them together, smiling, together, completely unaware of what life was going to throw at them next. 

And finally, he cries for himself, for everything he’s ever lost, all the grief he’s dealt with in his life. He cries for the fact that he could’ve had everything, and he has next to nothing now. He still has Sarah, he still has the two boys, but he yearns for what he could’ve had. For the life he could’ve had with his parents, his family together and alive. For the life he could’ve had with Riley, if he hadn’t fallen. If Riley hadn’t fallen from the sky, and if Sam hadn’t fallen so hard in love. If he had one more second with Nat and Steve, to tell them that nothing would be the same without them, and that he loved them. 

He cries for the life he could’ve had if he stopped himself from finding Bucky. If he backed out, if he went home. If he stayed at a different apartment complex. If he didn’t look into Bucky’s steel blue eyes and find all his answers. If he just stopped himself from falling so damn hard then maybe his life would’ve been a bit easier. 

Sam knows that probably isn’t true. He wouldn’t have laughed, he wouldn’t have smiled, he wouldn’t have felt genuine love from someone who didn’t look at him with pity. Even Riley, at one point, had looked at him like that. Everyone had. Nat, Steve, Sarah, his parents. But not Bucky. Bucky looked at him as if he was the strongest person on earth, even if Sam felt like he was the weakest one. And all he wanted to do was erase that from his mind. Pretend like all Bucky did was hurt him. Because, in fairness, Bucky did hurt Sam. Twice. Maybe three times. First, when he wished that Sam never found him, when he practically pushed Sam from his apartment with his words.

Then, when Bucky stopped calling, stopped answering. That’s when Sam stopped calling, stopped texting. And then, when Bucky couldn’t even let Sam give away the shield. Sam leaned his head against the exterior wall and cried harder. He could never forgive someone for that. 

But his stupid brain was trying to convince him that he still loved Bucky.

~ A week later ~

“You should at least text him.” Sarah told him one night, the night Sam explained who Bucky was, and what happened. They were both sitting on Sam’s bed, and he gaped at her, because she has pretty good ideas most of the time. Apparently it was not one of those time. “Listen, I know what you’re going to say. And you’re right, that was a horrible thing he did. But I can see you still care. It’s obvious. Don’t apologize for nothin’, because you clearly did nothing wrong, but at least check up on him. And don’t forgive him easy, because that was a crap move on his part.” 

Sam sighed, and he knew she was right. He did care, he just knew they needed distance, to blow off steam. Sam would give the shield to the Smithsonian, and maybe Bucky would come back and apologize. Maybe. “I guess you’re right.”

“That is normally the case, yes.” she joked, knocking her shoulders against his. He grinned, rolling his eyes. Wordlessly, he pulled out his phone.

Sam: hey buck

Sam stared at his phone and almost regretted this. Almost.

~~~~~~~~

Bucky stared at his phone, and nearly threw it at the wall. No, no, he couldn’t. Not after everything. He wasn’t ready to apologize. Even though he should be. And he couldn’t handle having another fight with Sam. Not yet, not ever. 

Chapter Text

Bucky had his eyes glue to the message, trying to figure out what Sam meant by this. Did he want to see Bucky? Did Bucky even want to see Sam? Was he here asking for an apology? He didn’t know if he would apologize. He thought Sam wanted the shield. It wasn’t something for Sam to give away, it was a legacy, and Bucky thought Sam would take up the mantel without hesitation. Clearly, that was not the case. 

Bucky didn’t respond. He doesn’t even know what he would say. It wouldn’t go well. Another notification popped up on his phone.

Conditions of James Buchanan Barnes’ pardon

Great. With a sigh, Buck clicked on the email, bracing himself for the worse. He didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with this. Certainly not now, anyway. 

Bucky skimmed the email, and he wasn’t pleased. He had to go to therapy. Bucky has had 3 months, more or less, to adapt to new society. Sure, some would argue that the time spent with Sa- in Bucharest was “adapting”, but he didn’t get out much, and if he did, it wasn’t for “adapting” or sightseeing. Adding on to the madness that is this century, he had just been snapped out of existence for 5 years, so there’s that. 

Maybe it’ll be good for him. That’s a big maybe.

~~~~~~~~~~

It was not. She wasn’t even a therapist, technically. She’s writing in a notebook, which, ok, normal for anyone else. Not him. Definitely not him. It didn’t help that what she was writing was a log of his distress and discomfort, basically. “Do you have any attachments, any friends?” She asked, and Bucky rolled his eyes, with a slightly over exaggerated sigh. “Yes.” He answered flatly, and watched as Raynor made a face.

“Who?”

Bucky wanted to say Sam, he knew he could say Sam. But there was something telling him not to. Because that ship has sailed.

But if it did sail, then why did Sam text him yesterday? Bucky’s brain really didn’t like him. The feeling was mutual. “Uh, well I did, I guess.” Bucky muttered, becoming shy all of a sudden. Raynor raised an eyebrow, seemingly for the first time in this session; she became interested.

“Who?” She pressed again, firmer. Bucky’s brain went into overdrive. He was starting to panic. He wanted to take it back.  No, he didn’t have any attachments, any friends, because the one time he did, he messed it up. He messed it up so bad, He felt himself hunch his shoulders, to make himself small. Suddenly the air felt thick, and Bucky wondered if the room was this small when he walked in. 

“Well,” Raynor’s voice cut through his thoughts, almost making Bucky jump. “Our time is up, but I would like to know who this mystery person is. They seem important.” God, Bucky hates this woman, and it’s only been one day. 

“Of course.” he muttered under his breath, giving her a nod and tight-lipped smile that Bucky only used while he was being passive-aggressive. Which, by the way, Raynor’s really passive-aggressive. He walked out of the building and sighs, eyes scanning the city around him. It wasn’t the same place he knew, which was pretty obvious, but it didn’t feel like home anymore. He didn’t know if it ever did, once he came back. Well, it probably did, but he wasn’t going to think about that now. 

~ A week later ~

“So… who’s the mystery person?”  Raynor asked, an eyebrow raised in Bucky’s direction. He was almost finished, he genuinely hoped she forgot, like she had for the past week. Clearly, she did not. Bucky stayed silent, looking as tense as he felt. He still didn’t want to tell her, it was stupid that he even brought it up. “Listen, James,” Bucky tensed up a bit, and he didn’t know if she didn’t notice or didn’t care. “Nothing will get done here if you don’t talk.” The words sounded so much like Zemo’s it sent a shiver down Bucky’s spine. He felt the room closing in on him again and felt Raynor’s scrutinizing stare on him. 

Bucky breathed in deeply, prepping himself to answer. “He was a friend. I- We drifted apart.” Bucky explained simply, his voice practically a whisper. He looked up at Raynor to catch her reaction, expecting at least a bit of sympathy, but he got nothing. She was cold as stone. “Ok, what happened?” she asked expectantly, and Bucky had felt like he already said too much. “Messed up.”

“Who?”

God, if she says that word one more time, Bucky was gonna lose it. “Who what?” he asked through clenched teeth, his irritation seeping into his words. Raynor sighed, leaning her head back. “Who messed up.” she over enunciated each word, popping the p on up and everything. This time it was Bucky who sighed, and he knew he wouldn’t get out of this one easy. “I- I don’t know.”

“Do you think that’s what’s bothering you? Do you think this person thinks the same?” Raynor really wanted to push this. Frankly, Bucky didn’t know. Knowing Sam, he probably blames them both, which is stupid, obviously. Sam shouldn’t blame himself for something he didn’t do. 

But Bucky still wanted to blame Sam. That was the issue. “I’m- I’m not sure.” he watched as Raynor scribbled something down in her notebook and a surge of discomfort ran through his body. “What are you writing?” 

“What you’re saying.” she replied matter-of-factly, making Bucky roll his eyes and lean back, wanting nothing more than to leave this room. “Can I see your phone?” she asked, a bit pushy. Bucky sighed, and reached for his phone in his pocket, tossing it to Raynor.

“You’re ignoring him. He’s the only number you have on here besides me .” It’s true, Bucky didn’t leave his apartment at all besides his outings to this hell, and groceries, so he didn’t meet any friends while on his walks of brooding around the grocery store. “You need friends. Not the one you have some issues with, whoever he is, new friends.” 

Bucky narrowed his eyes on her, absolutely fed up with this woman. “Fine, thanks doc.” he said snarkily, getting up from the couch he sat at every session. She tossed him back the phone, having Bucky catch it with one hand.

“Answer him.” 

Bucky thought, no, he knew that had Raynor yelled that just before he slipped out of the room. He should be. He should be. But he’s not. Because he’s petty, and being stupid. He might not be admitting it to himself yet, but he all he knew was that the minute he saw Sam again, he’d do something irrational, and he would regret it for a long, long time.

~~~~~~~~

As Bucky walked back to his apartment, he peered inside a small restaurant, Izzys , and figured he’d probably need a distraction. What could go wrong? He wasn’t letting his overthinking mind get a hold of that thought for too long. With a sigh, Bucky walked into the restaurant, and looked around. It looked nice, small, something comforting about it all. 

“There’s this place called Izzys. Thoughts?” Sam asked from the couch, scrolling through his phone. Bucky hummed from the floor, his head leaned against Sam’s hair, his short hair brushing against Sam’s arm. “Sure.”

“What do ya want?”

“Sam, we both know I’m indecisive, pick something you think I’ll like.” Bucky said matter-of-factly, a small smirk on his face. Sam sighed, shaking his head. “You’re lucky I love you.” Sam told him, making Bucky’s smirk turn into a grin. “You’re right, I am.” Bucky agreed, moving to press a kiss to Sam’s temple. 

Later that night, the smell of sushi filled the apartment, and Sam always knew what Bucky would like. This became a thing, every Saturday, he was greeted by this smell, and a bad fish pun form Sam. Every damn time .

That was exactly what Bucky could smell when he walked through the doors. The wave of comfort was a memory, a yearn. Quickly, Bucky made it out of the restaurant and back to his apartment. 

~~~~~~~

When he got back, a cold chill filled the room, and he guessed he left the window open, because there were pages everywhere. Bucky stumbled and fell onto the heap of blankets on the floor, his sleeping arrangements, and watched as a page flew through the air, landing at his feet.

Sam,

I don’t believe in luck, I don’t believe in a lot of things. But I do believe this. It wasn’t just luck that I love you. Even though nothing in our life was guaranteed , I could never be without you. You are a rock, a reminder of why I fight, and why I don’t. I am lucky that you love me, but I think no matter what, I always will.

Yours, J.B

Bucky felt like screaming. So he screamed. It was choked up, and choppy, and tearful. But he screamed, because he was wrong. He was so wrong. Sam isn’t here, Sam doesn’t love him anymore. He’s alone, back to square one. He feels like he’s back on the run, going from country to country, trying to get off of Sam’s radar. Which is way too ironic that Bucky doesn’t even want to think about it. 

Everything hurt, his throat, his heart, his mind. He just wanted all of it to stop. When your heart gets broken, it doesn’t just break your heart. It breaks your head, it breaks your soul, it breaks your body, it breaks you. Because the person that shattered your heart was the only one to pick the pieces make up. They were the only one who had broken pieces too, and that was okay. Because you were together. You were able to patch each others wounds. 

And now, they were alone, their wounds open and raw. Luck wasn’t real, and even if it was, Bucky had run out a long time ago. They both had.

Chapter Text

Sam sat on the dock, looking up at the murky sky that hung over him, a small radio playing music Sam wasn’t even paying attention to. The air smelt of rain and just cold, even though the breeze was a nice relief for the heat that surrounded him. Nightmares were now a nightly thing again, and he hated that they were about Bucky. He hated it. Because he didn’t know. He never knew if it was okay. Because it wasn’t. Nothing was okay right now. Sam’s trying to balance everything on his shoulders, he hasn’t had a moment to breathe, and he’s exhausted. But everyone needs him. Sarah needs him, his nephews need him, his community needs him. He just needs to breathe. He needs someone, too, but that can wait. Maybe he already had someone. 

Speaking of which:

It’s been about a 2 week since Sam texted Bucky. Nothing. He knows Bucky read it, but he’s got nothing. Since then, he’s sent two more. He didn’t want to look, as Sarah so lovingly put it, needy and desperate , so he sent the generic “I just want to make sure you’re alright.” and “text me back when you can.”

He never gets a text back. And for some reason, whenever he sees his phone light up, he gets this small pang of hope that it’s Bucky, but it never is. He shouldn’t want to see Bucky, and he doesn’t, not really. He just wants to know that he’s okay. Then, they can go from there. But it’s gonna take a long time for Sam to forgive Bucky. If Bucky ever finds it to apologize. God, if Bucky would just apologize all this could be over. 

~~~~~~~~~

Bucky sat in his cold, empty apartment, still shaking from his most recent nightmare. He jolted awake from his nightmare about 30 minutes ago, and he just couldn’t shake it. The only light in the room was the radio that sat on the table beside him, casting a blue light over the floor and a part of his face. 

“Mr Perfect face. Mr here to stay. Mr looked me in the eye and told me you would never go away”

Bucky sucked in breath and shuts his eyes, trying so hard to keep his mind from falling down into a memory he doesn’t need right now.

“Buck, these are the songs teenagers listen to while going through a break up, I hope you know that.” Sam said snarkily when Bucky walked into their small Bucharest apartment one day holding a Taylor Swift vinyl. “The fact you think you can change my mind about her worries me, Sammy. And besides, you bought by some, remember” Bucky set the vinyl into place on the record player and moved towards Sam, who was sitting on the couch. “Dance.”

“No.”

Bucky gaped at him, and grabbed his hand anyway, pulling the shorter man up from the couch. Bucky grinned as Sam made a noise of protest, but he never let go of Bucky’s hand. “I hate you.” Sam muttered as Mr. Perfectly Fine started. “Hm, I know.” Bucky said with a cheeky grin, spinning Sam around abruptly, the song not even matching the pace they were dancing at. 

Sam, despite his complaints, laughed loudly as Bucky spun him around. Bucky grinned, laughing too. As Sam met his eye, Bucky raised an eyebrow, a grin still on his face. “I thought this was the song that teenagers listen to while going through a break up?” Sam rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly. 

“You are quite the heartbreaker.”

Bucky’s eyes went wide for a second, thrown off by Sam’s comment. He promptly decided to ignore the blush that spread across his face and shook his head. “If anyone here's a heartbreaker, it’s you, doll.” Bucky said, and watched as Sam looked like his heart just paused. 

“You would never go away.” Sam muttered, looking into Bucky’s eyes with a look that no one other than Sam had used. 

“Every single day, until the end, I will be by your side.” Bucky sung along softly, a confirmation of sorts. 

“You would never go away.” Bucky muttered softly, ignoring the tears that fell into the floor, ignoring the pang of guilt and pain that shot through his heart. Sam said he’d never go away. He really was quite the heartbreaker. Sam, and his perfect smile, his laugh that made the world stand still, the eyes that made Bucky’s heart stutter and stop. Sam, who completed him, who knew him. Sam, whose heart got broken by Bucky because Bucky couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Bucky, who-

“Mr everything revolves around you.”

Yeah, that. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Until the end, I will be by your side.” Sam thought Bucky meant it, as the song played on the radio beside him. Sam hung his head low, and for a moment, he was brought back to the small apartment in Bucharest. With Bucky’s grin. Bucky’s laugh. Bucky’s voice. Bucky’s piercing blue eyes that scrunched up as he smiled. The blush that made it across Bucky’s cheeks. The way Bucky knew all the words to the song that he played. The way his hand felt in Sam’s as they danced slowly or quickly to the songs, only Bucky’s favourite because there’s some I can’t tolerate, Sam .  

The same Bucky who broke his heart. The same Bucky who-

“Mr never told me why . ”

Yeah, they were the same people. The Bucky that made Sam’s heart stop, also made Sam’s heart shatter, made Sam try to pick up the pieces of his broken heart. Sam cried a bit more, cried a bit harder. 

“How’s your heart after breaking mine?”

Sam knew Bucky was hurting, but he really should’ve thought it through. He really should’ve thought of that before he told Sam what to do with shield. He really should’e thought it through before he shoved everything Sam owned into a bag, maybe then everything would be a little more salvageable. But no, now, everything was a little more broken.

“And some day maybe you’ll miss me but by then you’ll be-”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Mr too late.” Bucky doesn’t want to be too late. But that burning thought in his mind is telling him what if he already is?

~~~~~~~~~~

“You said you’d never go away.” Sam and Bucky muttered, unknowingly at the same time, with the same pain in their voices, with the same hurt in their heart. The only difference was the ghost of a hand that was in theirs. In Sam’s, the cool touch of a familiar vibranium arm, and that only made him break just a little bit more, yearning for that touch.

In Bucky’s, it was a warm touch that used to calm him to sleep, and now he spent all night wondering when it would finally be back in his hand, and all he wanted to do is hold onto the phantom feeling of comfort just a little bit longer. 

~~~~~~~~~~

 Sarah had practically shoved the grocery list into Sam’s hand, sending him off with a wave and a smirk. Sam just rolled his eyes and pushed the door open, stepping out and onto the dirt that shifts underneath his feet.

Sam has, for the most part, pushed this morning to the back of his mind. He doesn’t like to dwell on things, that’s normally why he’ll go out and run errands for Sarah. It helps him take his mind off everything for at least an hour or two. 

  “Loving him is like driving a new Maserati down a dead end street.”

Sam knows he’s heard the song before, but he can’t exactly place it. He knows it’s Taylor Swift, and he tries so hard to keep his mind from wandering back to Bucky, from keeping all the emotions that spilled out of him this morning at bay. He tried. 

“Losin’ him was blue, like I’d never known.”

“Missing him was dark grey, all alone.” Bucky muttered against Sam shoulder one night, when Sam had awoken with a shout and a gasp, getting Bucky’s attention. A few times, when Sam wouldn’t stop shaking, when the tears rolling down his face wouldn’t stop, he would collapse onto Bucky. The taller man would wrap his arms around Sam’s torso, and rest his head on Sam’s shoulder. Then, he would sing. The songs would vary, some from Bucky’s time, some that Sam showed him, like musicals, classics from when Sam was younger. And the odd time, Taylor Swift. 

“Forgetting him was like trying to know somebody that you never met.” Bucky sang, his voice soft but with a certain edge to his words that Sam loved. Sam felt a feeling of calm and relief and just safety come over him. It felt, it felt really, really great. Especially considering the circumstances that led to the this. 

“You alright?” Bucky had stopped singing now, tilting his head to see Sam’s expression. Sam nodded, his eyes meeting Bucky’s. “Keep singing.” Sam requested, his voice a bit hoarse but quiet nonetheless. Bucky gave him a lopsided smile but did what he was asked, and Sam couldn’t be more happy. Sam felt Bucky’s hand ghost over his stomach, his arms, anywhere where Sam had a lot of scars. Bucky always did this after Sam had a nightmare; a silent affirmation that Sam was still here, and that he was strong, no matter how weak he felt. 

“Touching him was realizing all you ever wanted was right there in front of you.” Sam could hear the smile on Bucky’s face, and smiled too. It was just him and Bucky, and that was all that mattered.

Sam blinked away the tears forming in his eyes. Why the radio was so hellbent on playing Taylor Swift was beyond him. But he knew if he heard one more of her songs-

~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky was gonna lose it. He had just gotten home from grabbing a box of pizza, and he felt… decent. He hasn’t had a ‘good’ day in… well you can make your guess, but he was feeling a bit better than usual. And then.

“Touching him was realizing all you ever wanted was in front of you.”

Bucky didn’t break down, actually, he didn’t cry. He wanted to scream, but again, he didn’t. He pulled out his phone, and clicked on Sam’s contact. “ Hell no. I have everything I want right here.” his own words rung in his ears, and he knew what he needed to do.

Ok, so I’ve been thinking.

Delete, delete, delete.

I’ve thought a lot about that fight.

Delete, delete, delete.

Sam, I’m sorry I hurt you, I promise, I know what I did was wrong. I just, I’ve missed you, and I know I took you for granted. Please, if you don’t want to see me, that’s fine, just know that I’m sorry.

Bucky sighed, and stared down at his phone. This was probably a bad idea, like a really bad idea. Sam wouldn’t want to see him, this was no use. And this was the generic response. This was what you get when you know the other person isn’t really sorry. Another lie, another empty promise. Because Bucky wasn’t sure what was real anymore, he didn’t know if he was tricked by his thoughts, he didn’t know if as soon as he saw Sam, all his frustrations and his pettiness would come up as a defence.

~~~~~~~~~

  “Regretting him was like wishing you never found out that love could be that strong.”

Sam did regret it, right now. He probably didn’t regret it this morning, he probably didn’t regret when Bucky laughed, when Bucky smiled, when Bucky sang, when they were too lost in each other to remember what they had to do. They were too caught up in their own make believe fairy tale to remember that the world was cruel, and sharp, and painful. 

So were they. So was Bucky. Bucky and how he just didn’t get it. He didn’t even need to get it, he just needed to be ok with Sam’s decisions. And for some reason, he couldn’t. Maybe it was for the best.

Chapter Text

The shield practically mocked him from the corner of the room. The red and blue screamed at him, the obnoxious colours scolded him for what he did, or what he didn’t do, for that matter. He was giving the shield away, he’d come this far, he was giving it away. Sam knew this was the right thing to do, he knew that, there was no doubt in his mind about giving the shield away. But there was some nagging feeling in his chest that something was wrong.

Well, something was wrong, but it wasn’t the shield. Sam didn’t know exactly what it was, but the feeling was familiar, the feeling was… something like loneliness, maybe. Doesn’t matter right now, anyway, because he promised Sarah he’d help down at the restaurant, so that’s where he’s going.

~~~~~~~~

“He text you back yet?” Sarah asked casually as she wiped down the counter. Sam sighed and leaned back against the counter. “No.” he answered, shaking his head. Sarah offered him a sympathetic smile. “It’s been, what, three weeks? He’ll come around, lover boy.” Sam chuckled, nodding his head. “I hope so.” Does he? Does he hope so? He doesn’t really want to see Bucky, he just wants a small: Hey, I’m fine, don’t worry about me.

Sam can know it’s a lie, and so can Bucky. Because it would be the biggest lie they’ve ever told. It’s a lie they’re quite familiar with, just not telling each other the lie. But if Sam just had some type of reassurance, even if he knew Bucky was lying just to get Sam off his back, he would take it. But, it doesn’t look like he’ll get that for a long time.

Sam must’ve zoned out, because when he looks around, he notices that he’s the only one in the restaurant. Sarah must’ve slipped out the door, so quietly it didn’t even break Sam’s trance. The suns starting to set now, so Sam makes his way make to the house, shaking out of the thoughts of Bucky.

~~~~~~~~

“Sam! Sam!” Riley. Riley’s falling, Riley’s not stopping. Neither is Sam. But he’s too late. Riley hits the ground. Sam was too late.

“You were too late.” Bucky said from behind him. No, no he wasn’t. There was nothing he could do. Bucky was lying. Bucky lied to Sam before, he was lying again. “No I wasn’t, there was nothing I could’ve done.” Sam muttered, and he felt small, he felt so small. He heard Bucky’s dry chuckle, and he looked into the eyes that he hasn’t seen in a month, and they weren’t the same. They were brimmed red, they looked tired, they looked lonely. They didn’t look like Bucky’s. “Buck, what are you talking about?” Sam heard his words break and fall.

“You didn’t get to him. It was you. Thats why he’s not here. You killed him.” Bucky’s words sound too much like Bucky’s to be fake. “No, no, you don’t believe that. Neither do I.” Sam told himself that as much as he was telling Bucky. “You should. Because I do.”

That’s when Sam woke up. There was sweat dripping down his forehead. He didn’t want to believe it. But he couldn’t get that image out of his head.

Riley. Riley falling. Bucky. Bucky’s eyes. Bucky’s words. The way Bucky didn’t look like Bucky. The way he did. That’s what scared Sam the most. The tears rolling down his cheeks didn’t faze him. He barely registered them. What he did register, however, was the fact that as he kept processing the nightmare, it got harder to breathe. And harder. And harder. Until Sam was gasping for breath.

He steadied himself on the bed as he took deep breaths. He closed his eyes tight. Bucky. Bucky staring at him without his usual look. Riley falling. It was Sam’s fault. All Sam’s fault.

Sam snapped his eyes open, shaking his head. No it wasn’t, it wasn’t Sam’s fault. There was nothing he could do, remember?

It wasn’t Sam’s fault.

It wasn’t Sam’s fault.

It wasn’t.

It was.

It was Sam’s fault.

All of it.

Sam was at fault for why Bucky’s eyes were red, and lonely, and tired.

Sam was at fault for Riley falling.

He didn’t catch him.

“And you’ve never ever let someone fall. Because you didn’t drop Riley. And when he felt low, I’m sure you were that person to make him fly”

Bucky lied. Bucky lied a lot. That was just one of those times. The Bucky in the nightmare, the one who was hurt, by Sam, the one who was brutally honest because his heart was so brutally damaged, he was telling the truth. Sam knew it.

He barely realized that he was gasping for air again, the world around him crashing down, and there was nothing to stop it. He stumbled from his bed, trying to ground himself again. He catches a glint of metal from the corner of his eye, and for a fleeting moment, he thought it was Bucky’s metal arm. But now, Bucky wouldn’t be there to comfort him. Bucky wasn’t here. Bucky didn’t care. Bucky didn’t respond.

Bucky was gone. Not dead, gone, out of Sam’s reach. Probably still in that apartment. But Bucky still wouldn’t help him. Sam heard him say that it was his fault. In the corner of his eyes, he saw a glint of metal, and he almost thought it was Bucky. Alas, it was his dog tags, that hung from a knob on his nightstand. He reached out in a shaky hand, hoping that maybe this would ground him.

He remembered how the cool metal would brush against his arm, or his chest, each morning he woke up beside Bucky. How the 2 sets of the 2 pieces of metal that hung around both their necks as they slept would sometimes lie across the other mans heart.

He remembered the day Sam and Riley swapped, how it was mere weeks before he was… before he was gone. Nothing more than a distant memory and a faded photo. How in hushed voices, they’d promise to never let go of each other.

But they did. Riley fell. Even if Sam didn’t drop him, he let him go, he let him fall. He was too late. He killed him.

Sam felt like he was dying. Nothing made sense anymore. He felt like the world was spinning. He could barely register the way he fell over his feet as he made his way towards to his closet. He didn’t even know what he was doing. He was searching for something. What?

He feels a familiar sweater in his grasp and pulls it over his head. In the morning, when he’s in a clearer state of mind, he’ll remember its Bucky’s. And he’ll tear it off, disgusted maybe. Or he won’t. Or, he’ll stay in the comfort of the ghost that surrounds him with the sweater. The sweater that Bucky wore on the day in Bucharest when Sam found the ring. When they first danced to ABBA by the docks as they watched water flow.

Maybe he will, maybe he won’t. He’ll make the decision in the morning. Right now, he practically fell back into his bed, grabbing the dog tags on the table, and held them tight in his hand. Riley’s name was clear as day. Nothing else was. The room was dark, the curtains shut closed, not even letting in the slight light the moon cast over the world.

Sam cried. Sam cried and cried and cried. He needed to talk this through with something, someone. He reached for his phone… and he called Bucky. It wasn’t his best decision, hell, he probably wouldn’t make it any other time.

Ring

Bucky, please.

Ring

I need your help Buck.

Ring.

You were lying, why?

Ring

Of course.

Leave a message

“Buck, I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t even do this, because you know, everything, but I just.” Sam takes a deep breath. “I had a nightmare I couldn’t shake, and I needed to hear myself talk. Hear myself breathe. I couldn’t think of anyone else so, uh, yeah. Um, I’m really sorry, call me back if you can. Bye, lo-” Sam hangs up before he could say one more word. Love you. He thought he did. He thought he loved Bucky. He was just lying to himself. No, he was believing Bucky’s lies. Those are two very different things.

Sam set the phone down on his bedside table and finally just… realized what was going on. He hadn’t stopped crying, he hadn’t stopped shaking. His mind hadn’t stopped racing. The world hadn’t stopped spinning.

But Riley’s heart stopped beating.

And Bucky probably stopped caring.

Sam just wished he could stop hurting.

~~~~~~~~~

“Um, I’m really sorry, call me back if you can. Bye, lo-” Bucky replayed the message over and over and over again. Sam had a nightmare. He called Bucky. He almost said- he almost said love you, it was quite obvious. And Bucky still hadn’t fully wrapped his mind around.

Everything about the voicemail was heartbreaking, from Sam’s voice to Sam’s words to the way Bucky knows what Sam’s feeling. He’s seen the look in the other man’s eyes. He’s seen the look in his own eyes, too. He really wants to reach out, ask if he’s ok, but Bucky’s a coward. He isn’t reaching out in fear of him continuing this argument, in fear of pushing Sam away. He was selfish, and he was a coward, and he was petty. Bucky just wished Sam didn’t have to take the beating because of that.

Bucky sets the phone down, saving the voicemail before closing his eyes. One day, everything should work itself out. That was not going to be any time soon. 

Chapter Text

Sam woke up in Bucky’s sweater. And he doesn’t tear it off. He isn’t disgusted. For an instant, he thought he was back in New York. Or Bucharest. Or just back in Bucky’s arm. But, he was immediately brought back to the real world by the memory of last night. The nightmare, the voicemail. He didn’t know if he regretted the voicemail or not. Bucky hadn’t responded, and Sam didn’t expect him to. Sam didn’t send any text about it, and he would probably ignore it for the rest of the day. And so would Bucky, if he even heard it. He probably didn’t. 

God, Sam needed to stop worrying so much about Bucky. He was fine, he can take care of himself, Sam’s sure of that. He thinks. And if he can’t, then he should’ve thought of that before. God knows Sam can’t take care of himself, but that’s his own issue. 

Sam pulled the blankets up and over his head, followed by a sigh. He’s had a long month. Well, some long couple months. He probably just needs a distraction. “Sam! You eatin’ or no?” Sarah called from downstairs, and Sam smiled to himself, feeling somewhat nostalgia. He pulled the blankets off and called back “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

“I was thinking of working for the USAF again, Sar.” Sam said over breakfast, after the boys left. “Oh?” Sarah said, her eyebrows furrowing together. “You sure you’re ready? Getting back into the fight, again?” Sarah questioned, her eyes soft in concern. Sam nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. “I’m ready, Sar. Ready as I’ll ever be. It’ll be nice, a good distraction.” 

Sarah gave her a questioning look. “You sure?” Sam tilted his head. “I’m positive. Stop fussing over me- I can take care of myself you know.” Sam said dismissively, getting up from the table to put his bowl in the sink. When he looked back at Sarah, she had the same questioning expression. “If you say so.” she said with a sigh. 

If Sam was thinking straight, he’d probably tell Sarah the truth. That he was hurting. That he felt numb most days, and that the only thing to get rid of that were distractions. He figured she knew enough of it, from the conversation that took place the first week he came home. The multiple conversations, that took place that week, mind you. He didn’t need to get into it all again, so he left it alone. 

~ 1 week later ~

“Hi, I’m Joaquin. Torres. Joaquin Torres.” the kid had a bright smile, and he was really jittery. Sam smiled at him, amused by the nervousness or peppiness the kid brought with him. “Hey man, good to meet you.” Sam stuck his hand out for Joaquin to shake, which Joaquin shook, calming down from the previous state quite a bit. “Well, let’s get started, yeah?” Sam said, a bit expectantly, because truthfully, he was dying to get back into action. Joaquin nodded, that same smile still on his face. “Right, let’s go.” 

Being back in the air felt right. It felt freeing. He didn’t have the shield on his mind. Not Bucky. None of it. Just him and the clouds, and Joaquin’s voice coming in through the comms sometimes. Joaquin was a good kid, he was happy to be here, and he was friendly. A bit excitable, but at one point, so was Sam. A long, long time ago.

~~~~~~~~~

It was cold in Bucky’s apartment, which wasn’t uncommon, being, you know, winter in New York, but Bucky couldn’t be bothered to do anything about it. He had just gotten back from Raynor, which was thrilling as always. After discussing nightmares, amending (ugh) and the godforsaken texts from Sam, he was finally allowed to leave the hellhole. She was a pretty easy person to lie to “No, I didn’t have any nightmares.” and “Yes, I followed all your rules.”

But Bucky couldn’t lie about the texts. They had a whole one-sided conversation about the texts. “James, if he’s trying to reach out, maybe you should too.” Silence. “He clearly cares about you, if you don’t act fast, that could stop.” Silence, and rightfully so because what the hell? Thanks doc, super helpful . Eventually she dropped it, and he could leave. It was a big relief, really.

As he walked back to his apartment, he passed Izzys again. Maybe Bucky just needed a distraction. A friend who doesn’t know about, well, everything. He adjusted the gloves for a few seconds before take a deep breath and walking through the doors. There weren’t too many people here, so Bucky figured it’d be fine. He walked over to the counter, farthest from everything, and sat there, brooding.

~~~~~~~~~

Some time between him brooding and leaving, Bucky was asked if he wanted anything. He did, but as he sits in his apartment, he can’t remember what he got. The day was starting to blur, and Bucky didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. He vaguely remembers an older man sitting beside him, he didn’t speak to Bucky, he just sat there, ordered his food, created general conversation with the waitresses, and then he left. Bucky thought that maybe if he made this work, he could have a semblance of a normal life. He can fall apart in this apartment, without a doubt, but at least everywhere else he could- he could look normal. Or at least try to be.

~~~~~~~~~~ 

Sam lied in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He just finished the first mission he’s done since… well since 2016, technically. It was fairly exhausting, and his muscles ached. All he wanted was to sleep. But he couldn’t his body wouldn’t physically let him. He’s had this problem in the past. When they were in the run, when he was looking for Bucky. Sometimes he just wouldn’t fall asleep. It had nothing to do with nightmares, he didn’t think so. 

He eyed the sweater on the dresser across from him, and immediately shook the thought from his head. No, that was- no, why would Bucky’s old and torn sweater help him fall asleep? It’s ridiculous. 

~~~~~~~~~

Sam tossed and turned, his body refusing to sleep. Normally, he would just accept that he couldn’t sleep and do… anything. But, frankly, he was absolutely exhausted, and would kill just to rest his eyes. But, he couldn’t. 

His eyes travelled back to the sweater on his dresser. This was ridiculous. What was even more ridiculous is that he was getting up to get. He slipped the hoodie on with a sigh and felt a warmth flood his body. He hated it. Sam crashed back on his bed and closed his eyes.

Bucky shouldn’t be comforting him even after he broke him down. But here he was, feeling his eyes get heavy, back to the false reality of comfort Bucky brought with him, even if Bucky was miles and miles away. 

~~~~~~~~~

“Bucky? I’m Yori.” 

Bucky didn’t expect to engage in conversation with the elderly man that sat beside him, but a short-lived round of small talk led to them introducing themselves. “Good to meet you.” Bucky said with a smile and a friendly tone. “You as well. Now, were you going to order some food, or just sit here and watch as they kept bringing you water?” Yori said, and Bucky could tell they’d get along. “I didn’t know what to get.” Bucky said genuinely, putting one of his hands up in defence. “Alright, alright.” Yori said dismissively, and decided to order for Bucky. 

A distraction. Friends. Apparently. A routine. Ish. Therapy. Which he hates. But it was normalcy, and Bucky didn’t think about his nightmares, or Sam, for the entire day. Which was step up, Bucky considered. He might’ve even considered telling Raynor, but just the thought of that couch and her intense eyes of disappointed made his good mood dwindle a bit. 

The slight good mood went away as soon as he opened the door of his apartment. It was dark, it might’ve been a bit eerie to someone who hasn’t lived here for about 4 months. The cold was becoming unbearable now, causing Bucky to shiver repeatedly. He really should invest in heat, or something, literally anything. He collapses into the pile of blankets that he has in front of the TV and shivers again. 

Bucky brings up a few of the blankets and cover wrap them around him, praying that this will over him some semblance of warmth. It does not. He shivers yet again, and with a huff, throws the blankets back to the ground.

His TV is off, so it’s just Bucky, and the cold, and the pitch black of his room. The only faint light is coming from the kitchen, the new home of the radio. 

Bucky realized he wasn’t dressed for the weather. A leather jacket wasn’t really January in New York, so maybe this was not the best idea on his part, but he knew he needed to start digging for warmer clothes. He trudged into his old room, and pointedly ignores everything else in the room, eyes pinned on the hoodie that rested on the bed. It looked thick, warm, a bit stretched out. He slipped off the cold leather jacket and slipped on the hoodie, instantly feeling a bit warmer; even if it wasn’t very logical. 

Bucky went back to his nest of blankets and practically curled up like a cat, turning on the TV. He rarely had it off, he needed noise, he couldn’t sit with himself and his thoughts for too long. He never actually paid attention to whatever was on, he just knew that there was sound and a bright light. It kept him up at night- and that means no nightmares.

Bucky would only realize this was Sam’s hoodie when he woke up from the inevitable nightmare. He would recognize the way it didn’t fit him just right, but it was warm, and comforting, and safe. 

And he wouldn’t know that across the country, Sam did the same thing. He wouldn’t know that Sam was throwing himself into danger to distract himself from Bucky.

And Sam wouldn’t know that Bucky went to therapy, that he talked about him there. He wouldn’t know about Yori, or how goddamn freezing he was right now. Maybe it wasn’t so cold. Maybe he just missed the warmth that used to be here, but left one night, and hasn't come back since.

Distractions didn’t seem to work as well as they thought they would.

Chapter Text

Sam had a nightmare. He couldn’t shake it. It wasn’t as bad as the one from a few days ago, definitely not. But still, not pleasant. Sam felt so- so trapped in something. He felt like the walls were closing in on him. When he took a break, when he just stopped, his thoughts started racing a million miles per minute and then Sam- then Sam gets dizzy. He lies down, he breathes deeply, he calms himself down. He knows what to do, he’s known what to do since he can remember. 

Well, he knows what to do when he has a nightmare. But in general? Very different story. He has felt so lost, and he doesn’t actually know what to do. He doesn’t know who to go to. Sarah’s under too much stress already, Bucky’s well, Bucky. Sam doesn’t have a shoulder, a rock anymore. Well, maybe he does. 

Because as his eyes fall to the picture of him, Nat, and Steve on his bedside table, he knows where to go, just for today. 

~~~~~~~~

“I’m gonna be outta town for a few days.” he told Sarah as he entered the kitchen, she was doing the dishes from breakfast. He failed to mention the plane ticket and small backpack already loaded in his truck. “Where?”

“Ohio.” Sam answered casually, and saw Sarah make a questioning face. “What the hell are you doing there?” she asked quizzically. “See a friend.” he said with a smile. Sarah nodded slowly. “Alright, but I need your help at the restaurant in a few days.” she said with a teasing smile. Sam nodded, a grin spreading over his face. “Yes ma’am.” 

“Oh my god. Don’t start with that.” Sarah said sternly. Sam chuckled and made his way out the door.

~~~~~~~~

The plane ride there was practically a blur, Sam thought he might’ve slept for most of it, and the rest was probably stressing and overthinking, which was nothing new. 

He took a few taxis over to the cemetery, the chill of winter biting at his skin as he walked in the dirt path. The air was cold, and the streets were empty. It was nice, Sam got to be alone with his thoughts. Alone with the cold breeze that made him shudder.

It didn’t take long for him to reach Nat, and he noticed most things resting against the cement had faded or rusted, but the locket he had put there was looked like what it did the day he left it. Slowly, Sam knelt down, the leaves crunching and cracking beneath him.

“Hey Nat.” Sam began, and took a deep breath. “So- god how do I even start? I have a lot on my plate right now. Like a lot. I’m giving up the shield. I just- I couldn’t. You know why. I know you’d get it. Steve really couldn’t fathom that giving a Black man the mantle of Captain America probably wasn’t the best idea. I guess he wouldn’t understand.” 

“The person who I needed to know why doesn’t. Bucky doesn’t understand- which is fine- I guess. He just didn’t let me make a decision that wasn’t taking up the mantle. He didn’t even try to get it, he just went on and on about how Steve left me the shield and how I am Captain America. God, Nat, I’m pissed at him. I’m beyond pissed. But I just can’t- I can’t stop worrying. I just- I know he can go into the deep end and then never reach the surface. I watched it happen. I just need to know his heads still above water. I know what you’d say to me right now.” 

Sam can practically hear her voice, as if she could respond. You still care though. Nothing will stop you from caring for that man. It’s one of your few flaws. You lied to Steve goddamn Rogers and the government just to protect him, for god’s sake. What he did was horrible, and stupid, and you should be mad. But you still worry. It’s in your heart. Sam does still care, he put everything on the line for this guy, who he thought he might, in a perfect world, spend the rest of his life with. That’s why it hurt. He cared so much, and in the end, what did he get? A petty argument that costed him everything.

Sam sighed. No tears had fallen, his voice hasn’t even shaken. Something about this place calmed him. Maybe it was Nat, the way he could practically feel her hand resting on his shoulder, steadying him and making him feel safe. 

“It’s too hard; all of it.”

His eyes find a picture, probably left by Clint, with Nat, laughing, her hand brought up to cover her face, so Clint doesn’t take the picture. He can hear her laughter, he can see her hit Clint in the arm lightly after he takes the picture. He feels the soft look in her eyes telling him in a million different ways that it’s okay . It’s gonna be alright. 

Sam felt himself tear up a bit, but he didn’t let the tears fall. He stood up from the dirt and made his way back to the airport. As Sam walked down the sidewalk, he recognized most if not all the houses that he passed. One in particular caught Sam’s eye, a pride flag hung in the window of a bedroom, and the memory hit him like a wave from the ocean. 

“Mom, I didn’t know boys can hold each other boys hands. That’s so cool!”

Sam grinned, and pointedly ignored the tears that now fell onto the light dusting of snow on the sidewalk. He never- he never had that. And now this kid- he had that. Sam needed to steady himself against the fence that lined one of the sides of the sidewalks. This was shaping up to be a better day than Sam thought when he woke up.

~~~~~~~~~~

“How was Ohio?” Sarah questioned once Sam got back. Sam nodded, a smile on his face. “It was good…. Yeah, it was good.” Sam answered, casual as ever. “Who’d you go see?” Sarah asked, her eyebrows raised as she finished packing AJ’s lunch for tomorrow. Sam took a deep breath and looked down at his feet. “Uh, Nat.” 

He heard Sarah close the lunch bags with a zip, and walk towards him slowly. “You alright?” she asked, caring and soft as always. Sam chuckled softly, meeting her eye. “Yeah, yeah, I’m alright.” 

He was. He was today. He didn’t know about tomorrow, he didn’t know about when he woke up from his nightmare tonight. But right now? He’s alright.

~~~~~~~~~

“What’d he do this time?” Bucky asked with a smile as Yori walked out of his apartment building with a displeased look on his face. “He keeps playing those damned drums.” Bucky chuckled, and once Yori made it down the street, they started walking to Izzys . “It’s like he wants me to punch a wall or something.” Yori muttered, causing Bucky to laugh again. 

“You think this is funny? I’d love to meet your neighbours.” Yori had his eyes narrowed on Bucky, but Bucky didn’t stop laughing. “Firstly, I think you should punch a wall, it’d make a real nice addition to the chaos he’s causing in your building.” Yori laughed at that. “And secondly, I have great neighbours.”

“Unfair. You don’t have to put up with the ruckus Unique causes.”

“Could you describe the ruckus?” 

“Sam, what is this?” Bucky’s eyes went from the laptop to Sam, sitting beside him. “The breakfast club.” Sam said, like it was obvious. Bucky rolled his eyes. “Uh huh, that’s a real help. What’s it about?” Sam smirked, but stayed silent.

“Seriously? Immature.” Sam chuckled softly, leaning his head on Bucky’s shoulder. “You’ll find out.” and that was all Sam said. Bucky sighed, but turned his eyes back to the screen.

Unfortunately, Bucky did find out. And he spent the entire movie trying to deny the tears that had welled up in his eyes as it progressed. He had his head buried in the crook of Sam’s neck by the end. Sam was laughing softly, but Bucky knew that they both were seriously pained by that movie. “And you call that a comfort movie?” Bucky asked as the credits rolled. Sam chuckled tearfully. “It’s good.” Sam justified.

“I wouldn’t call it comforting.”

“Bucky, you alright?” Yori asked, and by the looks of things, Bucky had stopped walking as the memory played out in his head. Bucky snapped himself back into reality and started walking again. “Yeah, yeah, sorry, I got lost in my thoughts.”

Yori chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s alright, you’re young, you got a lot to think about.” Bucky had to keep himself from bursting out laughing. Poor Yori, he didn’t even know half of it. Instead, Bucky only chuckled. “I guess you’re right.”

“I probably am, Bucky. C’mon, let’s hurry it up, we’re never this late to Izzys.”

~~~~~~~~

Bucky spent that Wednesday night scrolling through his phone, when an add popped up. Online dating . Oh, dear god. Bucky stared at the ad, contemplating in his head if this was a good idea. It probably wasn’t, but at this point, he was way past that. With a hesitant hand, he opened the website. This could be alright, maybe he’s just overreacting. 

Chapter Text

The boys were at school. Sarah was at work. It was 9:30 in the morning. It was Valentines day. Sam repeated those words over and over in his head. He normally woke up from a nightmare in the middle of the night, and in fairness, he did. He got one, woke with a start, and ended up falling asleep a little while later. And then, he got another one. 

First, it was Riley, and Steve, and Nat, and his parents. They all looked scared, more than scared. Sam didn’t know what to do, he was trapped. He wanted to tell them he was sorry, he wanted to just- he wanted to know that it’d be okay. 

Then, he woke up.

He fell asleep again, thankfully.

Not for long.

He saw Sarah. He saw the boys. He saw Rhodey. He saw Bucky. This time, he wasn’t trapped. But they were out of reach. Each time he tried to get closer, they’d slip away. Bucky especially. And the boys. They all slipped away into darkness, until Sarah was the last one. “I’m sorry.” he said, because he didn’t know what else to say. He was sorry. “Not that it makes a damn difference. You left us. In a way, it’s like you betrayed us.” Sarah said, and then she was gone.

And then, Sam woke up. 

It was like his mind was trying to play tricks on him, like it knew exactly what it was doing. So, Sam kept reminding himself that the boys were at school. And that Sarah was at work. And that it was 9:30 in the morning. Well, a minute has passed. So, 9:31 in the morning. And, it was Valentines day. The last Valentines day Sam actually celebrate, he and Bucky spent the entire day watching rom-coms that Sam practically begged Bucky to watch. But before that, they took a walk down by the docks, and Sam pointed out every bird species that he saw, and Bucky just rolled his eyes, a fond smile on his face nonetheless. 

But, as the sun set-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We, uh, danced He went out and bought vinyls, like old, old vinyls.” Bucky hated this. Bucky hated this, Bucky hated this. Did he mention he hated this? Yeah, he hates this with a burning passion. Raynor noticed he was, as she so kindly put it, significantly more pouty . So, she asked what was wrong, because that is her job, and Bucky stayed silent. 

And he stayed silent.

And they both stayed silent.

Until Raynor talked. “James, you’re going to have to be a bit more talkative.” But James did not want to talk. This had nothing to do with the pardon, firstly, and secondly, does Bucky look like the type of person who would spill his heart out to Raynor? No, no he doesn’t. But when she said:

“Is it about Sam?” 

It switched something on in his head. Bucky was bound to spill over sooner rather than later. So he did. He briefly explained why he was so upset. “I-” he sighed deeply, “yes.” Bucky said, finally.

So, fast-forward to now, as Bucky finished explaining the day that felt like centuries ago, he saw that the notebook that was normally opened and ink filled was now closed, and he got Raynors attention. “Sam was important to you, wasn’t he?” Raynor questioned, and Bucky scoffed. Yeah, thanks Sherlock. “Yes.” Bucky answered bitterly. Raynor made a face and nodded. “James, you need to reach out to him.”

Bucky shifted in his seat, averting his eyes from Raynors. “How were you, you both, when you were… together?” she asked, and Bucky sighed.

“We were happy.”

~~~~~~~~~~

 They were so happy. Sam knew that they were so, so happy. And now, now everything’s a mess. He remembered the day like it was yesterday. 

“Morning.” Sam said, snarky as ever. Bucky rolled his eyes as he stumbled into the kitchen, the floorboards creaking at every step he took. Bucky’s looked at Sam, then at the whole ass breakfast that was in front of him. “What day is it today?” he asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Sam smirked. “Saturday.” he answered casually, and Bucky threw him a glare. “It’s Valentines day, isn’t it?” Bucky’s tone was agitated and fed up, but he was actually pretty excited. He had a plan. Probably wasn’t gonna go well, but he had a plan. 

~~~~~~~~

“Please.”

“No.”

“I think you’d like them.”

“Romantic comedies? Sam, who do I look like to you?”

“Someone who’ll like romantic comedies.”

“I’m gonna regret this.”

Sam grinned, and he grabbed his laptop. “Ok, so this one isn’t as popular, and some people wouldn’t even call it a rom-com, but I love it. So, we’re watching it.” Sam explained, giddy like a child on the last day of school. Bucky chuckled. “Don’t leave me in suspense.” Bucky said with a raised eyebrow. Sam nodded, a smile still on his face.

~~~~~~~~~

“C’mon, I have a plan.” Bucky had Sam’s hand in his. “Right, and that would be…?” Sam said with a raised eyebrow. “If you weren’t so impatient, maybe you’d find out sooner.” Bucky said with a smirk. “Ok well I don’t think the speed of you power walking depends on my patience, so I think we’re good.”

Bucky scoffed, and Sam finally recognized where they were. The docks. Not to mention the picnic blanket, and how Sam just realized there a bag of food in Bucky’s other hand will forever confuse him. “What did you do?” Sam questioned, and he heard Bucky’s chuckle softly. “I was up early.”

~~~~~~~~~

“I just… I didn’t know what else to get you.” Bucky watched as Sam fiddled with the locket in his hands. The inside was empty, but when Sam flipped it over (god knows how Bucky got this) he saw two words on the back: Yours Forever. 

Sam looked up to meet Bucky’s eye. “How- what- did-” his little mumblings were cut short by Bucky’s lips pressed against his. “I figured you’d like it. You do- you do like it, yeah?” 

Sam smiled softly. “I love it, Buck.” 

~~~~~~~~~

The air was cold and fresh as they walked back to the apartment, when Sam stopped abruptly. “Yes?” Bucky said hesitantly, an eyebrow raised. Sam didn’t respond, and only dragged Bucky by the hand into an abandoned looking bar. 

“Sam-”

“Just- c’mon, alright? I have a plan.” Sam said, and Bucky rolled his eyes. “Are you mocking me from when I said I had a plan.”

“Yes and no, now hurry up.”

~~~~~~~~~

The danced slowly in the abandoned bar, Sam’s phone playing songs that Bucky’s head perked up at. “I know this one.” 

“I know you do.” Sam said with an easy smile, spinning Bucky around slowly. “How’d you know what songs I liked? Like, songs from before”

“Say thank you to the vinyl shop down the street from us. I got a few, already at home. And some Taylor Swift, obviously.” Home. Home. Not a defiant place, but wherever they are together, they’re home. “Thank you, Sammy.” Bucky said with a grin, and rested his head on Sam’s shoulder. The bright hues of the sunset shone and were clear, making a backdrop to two dancing. Their dark clothing standing out against the colours almost made it look like a movie. They stayed like that until the breeze became cold, and the sun had set, then they headed home. 

They had a plan, in every sense. Now, now it’s done. The plan failed. 

~~~~~~~~

“It was the best of times, the worst of crimes.” Getaway car played. The same song Bucky begged Sam to dance to on Valentines day. He couldn’t dance to it, neither of them could, but it was fun. It was fun. Sam was laughing, his head on Bucky’s shoulder, while Bucky laughed, too, leaning his head against Sam’s. After that, they just listened to it, Bucky singing softly as Sam played with his hair. 

“X marks the spot, where we fell apart.” 

Bucky should sell the apartment, it makes the most sense. But he can’t bring himself to do it. It didn’t make sense for him to have this apartment if he only occupied 3 out of the 4 rooms. But, for some reason that Bucky doesn’t know (or doesn’t want to believe), he can’t leave. 

Maybe he had an irrational thought that Sam would come back through the door, smiling and happy. Which isn’t realistic, but Bucky feels his entire reality slipping. 

“We were flying-”

~~~~~~~

“But we never get far.” Sam muttered to the music as he ran a hand up and down the rail of the boat. The day had passed by like a gust of wind. By now the sun had set, and Sam’s mind had cleared. He knew the song, Bucky forced him to dance to it multiple times. It played on that Valentines day, they barely danced, only smiling and laughed, lost in the others eyes. They thought they’d be forever. 

“No they never get far.”

Sam used to wish, used to yearn, to get far. He’d had relationships in the past, but they were always short lived. Then, he met Riley, and he saw something. He saw a future, maybe. 

But Riley fell. Riley fell. And with him, a future that could’ve been. Probably should’ve been. It was dark. He felt lonely, he felt so lost. 

Then Bucky. He saw another future, one that wasn’t blurry or unclear, but one that was true, it was clear as glass. But glass breaks. Glass breaks really, really easily. And now-

“We’re both sorry.”

~~~~~~~~

“We’re both sorry.”

They’re both sorry. They’re both, so, so sorry. 

Sam’s sorry for what could’ve, what should’ve been. Sam’s sorry for believing it all.

Bucky’s sorry for- for everything. He’s most sorry that he’s a coward, sorry he won’t answer Sam’s text. So he won’t see Sam again, because he’s scared. Bucky’s sorry he turned on Sam, making him believe on them. His heart betrayed him, and, in a way, Bucky betrayed Sam.

“Traitors like us never win.”

Chapter Text

January 5

Sam:hey buck. 

Seen

January 14

Sam: just wanted to make sure you were alright

Seen

January 16

Sam: text me back when you can

Seen

January 24

Sam: just checking in again, text me back

Seen

February 6

Sam: bucky, please

Seen

February 22

Sam: i know you’re seeing these, please talk to me. I hate to say it, but i miss you

Delivered now

Sam was fully prepared to throw his phone at the wall. He almost did. But he stopped himself. 

Sam: i know you’re seeing these, please talk to me. I hate to say it, but i miss you

Seen

Seen. Of course Bucky wouldn’t respond. He’s being a coward, he’s scared of the dumb thing that he’ll say. Sam knows full well that is what’s going on. Bucky hasn’t responded before, this is nothing new, but before it was… because life was moving faster than it had for a long time. And now… now the dust has settled. Now, the world stopped moving, and it was horrible. Sam tried to make himself busy with USAF and the restaurant, but his life was slowing down. One day, he’ll appreciate the peace, but now… now he just wanted to know Bucky was okay. Bucky would lie, and that’d be that. But at least Sam would know that Bucky was there. Maybe he had friends. Sam knew he’d need to go to therapy for his pardon, so he probably had that. Despite all these things, maybe Bucky wasn’t okay. But neither was Sam, so he can’t really blame him.

He should stop texting. It’s not doing anything. But he just- he can’t let Bucky go. No matter how far apart they, no matter how mad he is at him, he still can’t let him go. He should, it’s unhealthy, but… 

How does something that was seemed so set in stone, so real, how does something like that crash and burn? If it really meant something, then it wouldn’t have ended so quickly.

~~~~~~~~~

Then why did it end in a fight they both regretted? Unbeknownst to the two, they had the same thought. In Sam’s case, he was helping Sarah in the kitchen, still lost in his own world. In Bucky’s case, he was walking down to Yori’s apartment. 

They wanted to see each other so bad, yet, for some reason, they were scared. Maybe they knew it wouldn’t end well. Maybe they knew that whatever would happen, they’d be farther apart than before. Maybe this was a safe ground, they weren’t talking, they didn’t see each other, and nothing got broken. Again.

It’s like when there’s a crack in glass, you don’t use it. In case you damage it further, in case you ruin the plate entirely. But maybe they were already at that point, but so desperately trying to glue it back together, without actually touching the plate. Without taking a step, without pushing away unreasonable fear, they can never fix it fully.

“You alright?” Sarah and Yori spoke at the same time, spoke to two different people thinking the exact same thing, with the exact same hurt in their heart. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” No, no, they probably aren’t. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam, 

Fine. I’m fine. Right? I’m doing fine, I would think. It’s been about a month and a half since everything started looking not fine. And I think I’m doing better. 

Bucky’s a mess. He’s not doing better. He’s confused. He’s lost. And he knows Sam will never read these. There’s a chance Bucky won’t read this after writing it. There’s a very big chance. 

I know a lot of things now that I should’ve before. And I’m sorry that couldn’t come sooner. I wish it could’ve. I guess this is my apology. Even if you never see this. And I know it should be in person, I know that, but in all honesty, I’m scared. I’m a coward and I realize that, but I can’t face you, because I know my defences are gonna come up. I know when I see you, and you’re understandably frustrated with me, I know what I’m gonna say. I know I’m gonna go off on you about all of it. About the shield, about everything, and I’m sorry. I want you to know that I wish it didn’t have to be like this. I wish everything was okay, I wish everything was actually fine. I’m really sorry.

Used to be yours,

J.B

Bucky blinked away his tears, and folded the page a few times. Sam wouldn’t read it, but that was fine. He knew he’d probably forget about the letter in a few weeks. And everything would be forgotten. Not forgiven, but forgotten. 

God, Bucky couldn’t wrap his head around that. He might never see Sam again. Because he was dumb. He was petty. And now, he’s scared. He’s scared he’d mess everything up, even though everything was pretty messy already.

~~~~~~~~~~

Sam: i hope everythings fine

Delivered now

The message sent with a buzz, and Sam tossed his phone onto the bed. He wished this was a dream, a nightmare of some sorts. He wished all of it was just a nightmare. He wished that Steve wasn’t really gone, that Nat wasn’t really gone, that his nephews knew who he was, that Sarah didn’t have to do this all on her own.

That Bucky still cared. Because god life felt like a damn nightmare. He felt like he was in a nightmare. Like he was trapped, like there was nowhere left to go, like he was alone, like he was lost. 

And it’s all because he was lied to. When Bucky lied. When Steve lied; “You guys are my family now. You’re all I got, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

Sarah lied; “It’s all gonna be okay, Sam.”

But he couldn’t really blame her for that, because she was trying to convince herself as much as she was convincing him.

When Riley lied; “You don’t have to worry about me, Sammy.” It was the last thing Sam ever heard in Riley’s calm and comforting voice. He had a giant grin on his face, he leaned over to peck Sam on the cheek, and he was gone. He was gone.

“Sam, it’s dinner. Were you planning on coming down after the 1000th time I called for you, or would you like to starve?” Sarah’s voice cut through Sam’s thought like a knife. He looked up at her and watched as her face softened. “What’s wrong?” she said carefully, taking small steps into the room.

“I miss them.” Sam said, his voice tired and cracked. Sarah nodded, a small smile on her face. “You wanna talk about it?” she asked, her voice soft and loving as always. Sam breathed deeply, feeling the bed dip as Sarah sat down. “Sure.”

Sarah nodded, telling him to go ahead. “I just- every time I had someone who I really cared about they- they leave. Whether it’s their fault, or mine, I can’t tell anymore. I thought- I thought when Riley fell that would be it. Because Sar, we had already lost so much. I didn’t expect to have everyone else leave too.”

“I still got you though.” Sam added, wiping some tears from his eyes. Sarah chuckled. “I ain’t leaving any time soon, alright? I got you, bro.” Sarah said with a smile, wrapping her arms around him. Sam chuckled, nodding. “I know, I’m not leaving either, I can tell you that. Not again.”

They stayed like that for a few more minutes, until Sam broke the silence. “Sar, I’m so tired.” 

Sarah smiled sadly, and leaned her head against Sam’s. “I know you are, Sam, I know. So am I.” Sam smiled too, and shut his eyes. Maybe tears fell, maybe they didn’t, but all he knew was that through everything, Sarah had his back. Sarah was there.

“Listen, I know not everything’s the best right now, but when you are taking that dinner plate to a museum. I think it’s collecting dust.” Sarah asked, trying to keep her tone light, and the air easy.

 “I, uh, I don’t know.” Sam admitted, because he didn’t, not really. He was back with USAF now, and life had gotten busy. Thank god. So, Sam could only stare at the shield from time to time. “Probably when life just…”

“Settles?” Sarah supplied, and Sam nodded, a smile on his face. 

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Silence came over them again, so he barely registered how his nephews padded into the room, how they leaned against him with zero hesitance. He had a family. He had a family again? He had a family finally ? Sam didn’t know the logistics, but he did know that he had a family. Maybe he was fine. Maybe, just maybe, he was more than fine.

~~~~~~~~

“So, James, how have you been?”

“Fine.”

“Just fine?” 

Bucky nodded, and could almost predict what she would do next. She’d ask for his phone, point out that Sam had texted him, and that Bucky ignored him. Then, she’d go on and on about making amends. For a fun surprise, she’d bring up the fact that he needed a life. That he needed friends. And when he told her he had friends, she would stay silent and shake her head. 

And that’s exactly what happened. As she looked at the two new messages from Sam, she clicked her tongue, and said that he should “reach out and reconnect.” which would not be happening. And in Bucky’s mind, Sam was wrong. Not because Sam was wrong, but because Bucky so desperately wanted to ignore that he lost the one good thing that had happened to him because he lied. He promised, and he can’t keep up with those promises.

As he got up from the couch, her eyes passed over his face. “Get some sleep, James.”

Wow. What a therapist.

Chapter Text

“Riley, Riley come in, are you okay?” Sam shouted over the comms 1000 times and all he got back was static. And static. And then a scream. And finally, the smell of burning. Burning flesh. The burning of a future. A love and happiness that could’ve been, now up in flames.

Sam woke up with a shout that night, and realized that he was in a hotel room following a mission. He normally went straight home, but it was too late, and he was absolutely exhausted. 

He had said those words to Steve, without even realizing it. Steve went down, and it looked identical to Riley. Sam was thankful that his wings were down soon after that, because he couldn’t have stayed in the air much longer. It was like a real life nightmare. So now, Sam was here, lying in a cold and dark hotel room, with nothing but his own breathing and his own sorrow to keep him company. It was going to be a long night.

~~~~~~~~~

Sam got home by noon, greeted by the smell of gumbo, and an immediate smile took over his face. “I’m back.” Sam said calmly, and he watched as Sarah whipped her head in his direction. “Took you long enough, there’s something wrong with that boat.” Sarah said with a smile.

“What now?” he made his way over to the food, but his hand was slapped away. “No way, step away from my food.” Sarah scolded, and Sam scoffed. “It’s my recipe.” Sam said with a pointed tone.

“It’s my recipe.”

“What- it’s mine.”

“In what world?”

“This one.”

Sarah shook her head, tasting a spoonful of her gumbo. “It’s mine.”

“How do you know?”

“Because it tastes good.” she said it like it’s obvious. Sam shuts his eyes, shaking his head. “It’s mine.” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Then why does it taste so good?” Sarah retorted, walking up the stairs. San sighed, a bit too dramatic. He took a glance at the gumbo, then the spoon. He spent a good minute staring at the two items in front of him. This was not happening. He grabbed the spoon and took a spoonful of the gumbo.

“Dammit, it is good.” Sam muttered, not hearing Sarah walking down the stairs. “Is it now?” Sarah said, loudly and pointedly. Sam rolled his eyes, turning in her direction. “Probably because it’s my recipe.” Sam said, without missing a beat. “Nope.” Sarah said smugly, popping the ‘p’ for extra effect. “Now, can you please go look at the boat with me? It’s doing some weird sputtering thing.” 

Sam rolled his eyes, but was secretly grateful he got to work on the boat again. “Fine, fine.”

~~~~~~~~

Sarah and Sam sat on the edge of the dock, watching the water flow as the sunset, the boys running around behind them. “I really missed you, Sam. I really needed you.” Sarah said quietly. “I had to, I didn’t want to, but…” Sam trailed off, setting his hand on her shoulder. “No, I know, I’m sorry. Sarah, I can never explain to you how sorry I am.” he said, equally quietly. He met her eye, and couldn’t help but have a pang of guilt run through his heart as he noticed tears in her eyes. “I know Sam, and I’m sorry for what you had to deal with-”

“Hey, this ain’t about that, right? I chose to go off and do all those things. You had to- you were alone.” and Sam regretted that. He didn’t- if only he hadn’t gone and looked for Bucky, if only he hadn’t continued that first conversation with Steve. He could’ve just left it. But he didn’t. He could’ve watched his nephews grow up, but he didn’t. 

“Sam-”

“No, no, Sar, you’ve been through the hell a few times already.”

“That doesn’t mean you haven’t, either.” Sarah retorted. Sam didn’t have a comeback for that. “Sam, you’re so hellbent on helping people, why don’t you let people help you?” that was the big question, right? A question that he should’ve been asked every day since he was 16. “Because the last time I did that…” Sam didn’t need to finish, didn’t want to finish. He never really knew why he couldn’t open up, but after both his parents passed, he closed himself off. He distracted himself. If someone else was hurting, then Sam wasn’t hurting. At it’s best, it was a bad coping mechanism. At it’s worst, it shut him down, and he never knew why.

“You learn anything from the VA?” Sarah questioned in a light tone, but they both knew that was a loaded question. Still, Sam chuckled. “How to help, how to heal.” Sam answered simply. 

“Sam, you need to be doing that too, you know.” she advised, and somewhere, Sam knew she was right. It was buried somewhere deep in his heart, in his head, but it was there. He should listen to that small voice that tells him to slow down and heal. But he can’t, not without feeling ashamed, or vulnerable, or both. Sam doesn’t know. “You should too.” Sam said, avoiding the thought of it entirely. He left Sarah to handle everything on her own. He should’ve been here. 

“You can’t rewrite the past. The only thing you can do now is know how you want your future to look.” as always, Sarah could read him like a book. Peer into his thoughts. And she was right. She was always right. “That is very wise.” Sam joked, causing Sarah to chuckle. “Motherly wisdom.” she said with a dreamy tone that was a bit exaggerated. He chuckled this time, his eyes wandering over to their reflections in the water. 

“Remember when we took the boat out without Daddy or Ma knowin’?” Sarah asked wistfully, and Sam grinned, turning to look at Sarah. “God, how old were we?” Sam asked, a reminiscent smile on his face. “Was I 14?” Sam guessed, his eyebrows knitting together in thought. Sarah snapped her fingers and nodded her head. “Yep, that was the year you took all the neighbourhood kids fishing.” 

“How do you remember this?” Sam questioned, a laugh dancing in his voice. “I don’t,” Sarah gestured to all the houses surrounding them. “They do.” Sam grinned, small laughs escaping his lips. Sarah laughed too, and for a moment, they felt like they were kids again. When life was simple, when they laughed and smiled. When they had each other. When everything was put together, when the pieces of their perfect life didn’t fall quite yet.

“We got caught in the storm, the time we took the boat out.”

“And we claimed we were tying the boat up.”

“Which was not fooling either of them.” they said in unison, grinning. “I was thrilled when Ma yelled at you, god, it was like heaven.” Sarah recalled, and Sam scoffed.

“What do you mean?” he asked defensively, tilting his head. His sister snorted a laugh, shaking her head. “Such a mommas boy.” Sarah said, clicking her tongue. Sam scoffed.

“Was not.”

“Was too.”   

“How?” Sam asked, because he knew damn well she was right, but he could not let her win two arguments in a row. 

“Momma never, ever blamed you. Perfect Sammy, that’s what she’d say.” 

“Never happened.”

“That always happened.” Sarah said matter-of-factly, but Sam still denied it. “You’re actin’ like you never got favourited by Daddy, either.” he said, changing the subject. “I most certainly did not.” Sarah said, shaking her head. “Ha! Okay, sure.” Sam said, not believing a damn thing. Sarah gasped. “He didn’t!” she argued. “Neither did Ma, yet here we are.” Sam retorted. With the maturity of her sons, Sarah stuck her tongue out at Sam, before getting called over by the two hellraisers. She stood up with a sigh, making her way over to the two of them. 

Sam grinned, feeling a cool breeze that nights like these brought. It was nice, the sun had set over the horizon, leaving the sky a hue of blues and purples, stars waiting to shine. 

“Sam!” Sarah called out from the doorway, no doubt being dragged in by the boys either being exhausted, hungry, cold, or all 3. 

“I’ll be inside in a few.” Sam called back, turning his head a bit. Shortly after, he heard the door close and smiled, leaning back, so he could see the sky in all its glory. The trees framed the mix of blues and purples perfectly, filled with small white sparkles that made the sky look like something from a fairy tale. How the moon peeked out from behind the trees, the pale light shining through the dark and thick trees. 

“The moon shines bright in the night sky, but what would it be without the sun. The sun, the warmth of my heart, the light of the day, makes the moon shine too. The moon has imperfections, and at times, it will show it’s full self, at times it will not.” 

Sam and Bucky stare up at the same moon, both thinking of simpler times. Bucky’s simpler times were Sam, were the letters. And Sam’s were his family. When everything wasn’t confusing, when it was calm. It was beautiful. 

“And the sun, beautiful on the inside and the outside, and it has a fire of it, that the moon adores. And when the sun is gone, what will the moon do. The warmth that showed the cold, grey, moon that it was something beautiful.” 

What Bucky forgot was that the sun loved the moon too. So much. But, the moon was confusing. It had grooves, it had parts where the sun couldn’t see. It’s something so mysterious, so intricate. But the sun thought it knew, thought that maybe, if the moon was with the sun, it could show it’s full self. But the moon never tried. The moon was as lost as the sun, orbiting and orbiting with no clear direction. But they knew they had each other. Until they didn’t. That’s when it crashed, that’s when it burned.

As powerful as a hurricane, and as intense as a flame, they collided. And that was it. One without the other. Gone forever and ever. Because they were both scared. So they hid. They hid amongst the trees, amongst the stars, amongst the waves. In the cold, and in the heat. Because that’s all they knew. That’s all they could do. The moon would stay put, surrounded by everything but taking nothing. The cold feeling of loneliness, that was like a pit you could never climb out of. 

And the sun, the sun orbited around what it loved. It was pulled to it. The warmth of it all, the smiles, the struggles, the sweat, and the memories. But the warmth was never permanent, the warmth was a reminder of how it used to be balanced. Without warmth, there is no cold. With the sun, there is no moon. But, without trust, with respect, without understanding, there is no love.

Chapter Text

“So, James, how have your nightmares been?” Bucky grimaced. He didn’t want to tell her the truth, mostly because he didn’t need to. He didn’t think he needed to. Raynor, obviously, thought differently. “I haven’t had any.” the lie fell smoothly from his lips, just like the last time she asked him that question, and the time before that, and the time before that. She shut her notebook, the sound of the paper hitting softly. Her pen was resting on the arm of the chair now, and her eyes stuck on Bucky. “Then what’s bothering you?”

That was a loaded question. Mostly because some many things were bothering Bucky. Sam. The shield. Making amends. Nightmares. The fact that it’s his birthday, and he’s already received a text from Sam, yet he’s such a horrible person he can’t even think to reply. He’s such a coward that he can’t respond to someone who means well. Who matters. Well, who mattered. 

“Let me see your phone.” nope. No. Definitely not. Bucky looked away from the woman in front of him, keeping his phone hidden in his jacket. Raynor wasn’t stupid, fortunately or unfortunately for Bucky, so, she saw the way his hand slid to his jacket pocket, seemingly fidgeting with something. “What are you hiding, James?”

“Nothing, alright.” Bucky snapped, and shocked himself a bit. Raynor looked unfazed by the sudden outbursts. “Is this about Sam, because let me tell you James, this issue with Sam is a bit mind-boggling to me. You were, together, partners, if you will-”

Partners? Where the hell did Raynor get that idea? He never even told her. “We weren’t partners.” he corrected her in a sharp tone,  jaw clenched. She put her hands up in defence, a small, knowing smirk on her face. She wasn’t having any of that. “Fine, but is this about Sam? I don’t care what the relationship was, just tell me.”

“Huh, that’s probably the first time you haven’t over stepped, look at you go.” Bucky muttered under his breath, and he knew she could hear him. By the way she raised an eyebrow and rolled her eyes, he knew she could hear him. “I guess it is.” he said flatly, still not meeting her eye. The notebook opened with a small click, and the pen started scratching on the paper immediately. 

“How?”

“Because.” Because I hurt him. Because he still cares. Or is pretending to care. Because I still want to care. Because I’m a coward. Because I was blind. Because there’s a million things I want to say to him, but I can’t muster the strength to say one word. Because I’m in pain. And so is he. And we’re two broken parts of the same heart, that might never heal. Because why would it? Because, because, because  

I was wrong.

“James.” Raynors voice snapped him from his thoughts, and he turned to face her. “Hello.” he said in a bitter tone, with a hint of mockery. “You were saying?” Raynor said, her eyes going from her paper to Bucky. He sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “Because… I- I, I’m confused.” his voice was suddenly small, weak. And that’s how he meant it to be. He stumbled over his words, feeling the words toss in his brain. “How can you make that better for yourself, James?” Raynor asked in her mandatory therapist voice that sounded so fake it almost made Bucky laugh. “Isn’t that what you’re here for, Doc? I mean, I clearly can’t solve my own problems, that’s why I’m here. So tell me, what should I do, Christina ?” Raynor kept her posture calm, but she looked a bit taken aback. 

“I think you should reach out to him, don’t you?” her tone matched Bucky’s, just with a bit more therapist. When Bucky stayed silent, she smacked her lips together, a tight smile on her face. “Why aren’t you reaching out?” Raynor said, a pause in between her words. Bucky sighed, fidgeting with his hands. “Why aren’t you-”

“I don’t know.” Bucky said bluntly, still not meeting her eye. “I suggest you figure it out quick.” Raynor advised, her eyes cutting daggers into Bucky’s skull. “Pass me your phone. Last session you talked about online dating.” oh yeah, he loathed that conversation. “So, I wanna see if you have any more numbers.” Bucky could feel his face heating up. Begrudgingly, he handed her his phone, already regretting it. 

“You are ignoring everyone. You have five phone numbers, James. You need to be out in the world, you need to trust.” Bucky rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “I trust.” 

“Ok, riddle me this, why aren’t you responding to Sam? If you trust people, why aren’t you responding to him? Someone I know you’ve trusted in the past.” Raynor isn’t giving up on this. Bucky only shrugged. He could feel the anger that radiated off of her, and he held back a grin. “Well that’s all our time.” Raynor announced, and tosses the phone back to Bucky, who caught it with ease. “Trust people.” is all she said as Bucky walked out of the room, grateful for the relief of that hellhole. He’d text Sam. He would.

~~~~~~~~

Ok, Sam was just gonna stop texting. This, whatever games Bucky was playing was pissing Sam off to no end. So, after sending Bucky a short: Happy birthday, Buck , and only getting a seen in return, he almost launched the phone at the wall. If Bucky didn’t want to play nice, be respectful, then Sam would stop trying to care. Sam would let him live his life, and Sam would live his. Nice and simple. And down the road, if they ever had to work together, they’d be mature. Because Sam is a respectful person. Maybe they’ll reconcile, maybe they’ll be friends. But right now, he can’t even think of that. He half wants to blow up on Bucky, tell him why he’s wrong, and why he can’t forgive him. And why he was so stupid, why he never understood- or even respected Sam’s decision. So, Bucky should consider himself pretty damn lucky that Sam was still texting him. That Sam had the thought to wish him happy birthday for gods sake. 

His phone vibrated in his hand, and for a fleeting moment, he thought Bucky had come to his senses. Alas, it was only Joaquin with a new mission. Sam got up from his bed with a sigh, pocketing his phone. A good distraction. 

~~~~~~~~

“Be safe.” Sarah said quietly to Sam, as he stood in the doorway, his duffle bag in hand. Sam offers her a lopsided smile. “Always am.” Sarah rolled her eyes, basically her way of saying not true . “Hey, save me some of that Jambalaya you’re cooking, yeah?” he added, his smile shrinking down to a smirk. “Whatever.” Sarah muttered, but Sam knew she’d save him a plate. “Bye Sar.”

“Bye Sam.”

~~~~~~~~~

The mission went fine, he got along with Joaquin great, the kid really likes hanging around him. It’s amusing. He does bring some good things to the table, he has a nice head on his shoulders. “Those things normally act up like that?” Torres asked from beside him once they were out of their gear. During the fight, the wings started acting weird, and apparently Joaquin noticed too. “Not normally, no, but it’s nothin’ I can’t fix.” Sam answered, running a hand over the wings.

“If you want, I could take a look at them.” Joaquin added, a smile that almost looked giddy on his face. Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “Thanks man, but I’m pretty sure my nephews would go insane if I let them watch me work on the wings.” Torres chuckled from beside him. “Fair enough.”

They both smiled, but Joaquin noticed the older mans smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

~~~~~~~~

“I knew you’d save me some of this.” Sam said over a bowl of the last of Sarah’s Jambalaya. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fantastic and everyone loves me, can we move on from it?” she said from the sink, washing dishes. Sam chuckled, a wide grin spreading over his lips. But when Sarah turned around, she noticed, just like Joaquin did, she noticed that his grin didn’t quite reach his eyes, like it had so many times before. 

Her face must’ve shown what she was thinking, but Sam looked at her with concern. “You okay?” he asked, an eyebrow raised. “Are you?” she countered, the concern look on her face not fading away. “Yeah.” Sam said, a bit hesitant. She looked at him with more skepticism than concern now, but ended up dropping it. 

Sam was thankful she did, because he didn’t need to have to dump another load of Bucky won’t respond , and I just don’t know what to do , because every time he did, he felt so guilty afterwards. They stayed in silence for a bit, almost a comforting silence, until Sarah left the kitchen to do some laundry, or clean up. Just something. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and as always, he thought it was Bucky. But no, it was… much more confusing than that.

Conditions of James Buchanan Barnes’ pardon

Ok, what? Sam raised an eyebrow at his phone, rereading the title of the email about 100 times. Why the hell was he sent Bucky’s pardon? Sam clicked on the email hesitantly. Who even sent it to him?

Forwarded by: Christina Raynor

~~~~~~~~

After skimming the email a few dozen times, he found out that Raynor was Bucky’s therapist. Why would Bucky’s therapist send him Bucky’s pardon? No one knew that they even talked. Sure, they both basically went into hiding for two years together, that was being spread around the news a lot, but  no one actually knew that they had history. Unless-

Bucky talks about him. Because how else would a government assigned therapist know who Sam was, know that Bucky and him had history? But why? Why would she send him this? Sam rubbed his forehead, shutting his phone off with a click. He needed… he needed a rest. He needed a break.

~~~~~~~

Raynor knew this was kind of unprofessional, and a bit illegal. But, if she had to hear James mope and pout about Sam one more time, she might quit. And, it was clearly eating away at him, and her job was to make that stop, or at least get put on pause. So, she sent him the email, in hopes of him getting the hint that his really annoying ex won’t stop complaining. And, she does feel bad for him. For both of them.

Chapter Text

Sam,

This must be a nightmare. A story I can walk out of. This isn’t my story. I wanna can rewrite. I wanna erase it, start over. Maybe, a new story. The girl and the guy got a happy ending, can’t I? Can’t we? Where’s my happy ending? When do I get to walk into the sunset, have everything beside me, behind me, beside me. When can I rewrite my nightmare, and make it a dream. A dream with you. 

Wish I was yours,

J.B

Bucky sighed, closing his notebook. If only he could actually muster up enough strength to actually talk to Sam, and not just sit alone in his apartment and write love letters like he’s a 13 year old with a crush. He used to feel like that, when he left the notes on his pillow, or beside Sam, while he made eggs, cursing at the pan, or the butter, or himself. And he would hear a rustle of paper, a sigh, and maybe a chuckle. Then, a pair of arms would wrap around his waist, a soft kiss pressed to his temple, a comment on the note. And they would smile. And they would be happy. And they would live in a dream. Their happy ending. Watch the sun rise, and the sun set. 

Not anymore. Now, they were in a nightmare, miles apart, lost whispers, forgotten touches, and kisses that didn’t last long enough. It had been about three weeks since his birthday, and Sam had only texted him once. He deserved that, with how he acted, how he’s been acting for the past 4 months. He might- he could apologize. He thinks he’s getting there. God, he hopes he is. He really, really hopes he is.

~~~~~~~~~

Sam ended up just ignoring the email Raynor sent. He figured it was to send a message to him. “Your crazy ex is talking about you please help.” type of message. But that wasn’t what he was focused on right now. Sam has been assigned a mission in Ohio. He figured after it ended, he’d go see Nat. He didn’t anticipate seeing a torn up pride flag in the window of the kid he saw with Bucky, months ago. He felt his throat close up, like the earth was getting smaller, maybe it was spinning faster. That’s probably why Sam was so dizzy. He stood against the fence, trying to steady himself, steady his mind. 

Another reason Sam can’t take the shield. There’s millions of reasons why, but seeing a torn up pride flag in a kids window is all he needs to know. If he held the shield, there’d be outrage, people would… god knows what they’d do. But Sam doesn’t want to deal with it, he knows that. God, he needs to get that damn thing out of his house. He would’ve done a long time ago, but maybe some part of him was hoping Bucky would come to his senses. That he could wait for Bucky’s hand on his shoulder and quiet words of encouragement. But Bucky’s not here. So, Sam thinks it’s time. The shield has to go. But he could still use a few words of encouragement

~~~~~~~~

Bucky felt himself cut through the air, drifting and flying and falling and… Sam caught him. He felt Sam’s sturdy arms around him, and he was safe. So, maybe this wasn’t a nightmare. Didn’t seem like one. He was safe. He felt Sam around him and that was enough. Sam was here. 

Bucky saw black. But he wasn’t dead. He was on the ground. But Sam was gone. He felt a gun in his hand. A gasp escaped his lips. Where was Sam? Bucky didn’t see him. Didn’t hear him. Didn’t feel him. “Sam!” Bucky cried out, desperate. He felt like the room was spinning, well, it probably was.

He saw him. With a bullet in his heart.

“Sam.” Bucky breathed out, rushing towards him. Bucky killed Sam. Bucky killed Sam’s heart.

Bucky awoke with a gasp and a shudder that night. He killed Sam. He didn’t mean to. He didn’t even know how it happened. But he killed Sam. And right now, he needed nothing more than to hear him. Hear the smile in his voice. Bucky needed him. He saw his phone light up, the white glow illuminating his entire apartment. Shaky hands reached up and grabbed the phone, searching for any saved voicemails, or videos, or something. 

“Hey Buck . ”

~~~~~~~~

“Hey Sammy.”

~~~~~~~~

“I can’t find the proper plums, my condolences.”

~~~~~~~~~

“I regret to inform you that they have no grapefruit Halls.”

~~~~~~~~

“Uh, you seemed pretty shaken up from the nightmare.”

~~~~~~~

“You woke up looking a little… shaken last night.”

~~~~~~~~~

“It’s gonna be okay, you know ”

~~~~~~~~~

“I promise, you’ll be okay.

He was okay. He was okay. He was walking over to Nat’s grave, he saw the tree hanging over all the pictures. All the memories. He heard Bucky’s voice. Bucky was telling him it’d be okay, he’d be okay. 

~~~~~~~

“It’s gonna be okay.”

“It’s gonna be okay.”

“It’s gonna be okay.”

It’s gonna be okay. Bucky keeps replaying the message over and over and over again. Then, he scrolls through his phone, looking of another one. This time it’s a video. From Wakanda. 

“So to recap.” It’s Nat. Her smile is vibrant, and her hair is platinum. It makes a few more tears roll down Bucky’s face. “Steve, and Sam, two very respectable men, have decided to drink goat bath water. Now, you may be thinking, isn’t Wakanda technologically advanced? Well, to that I say, is the face of America supposed to be drinking goat bath water? No, he should not. And Barnes should not have convinced the princess of Wakanda to take out the filter for the bath water, but here we are.” Bucky laughed, soft and broken, but he laughed, because he remembers that day. Sam had the dumbest grin on his face, because as it turned out, he was able to drink more disgusting goat water than Steve. Apparently he considered this an achievement. Well, as much as one could possibly consider it an achievement. Bucky, however, did not. 

“We have also invited princess Shuri, King T’Challa, and the delightful General Okoye, to watch this disaster.” Nat explained, her smile still on her face. It made Bucky smile. God, they were so happy. They were so… okay.

“Alright, ready boys?” Nat asked, the camera turning with her as she turned to where Sam and Steve stood. In front of them, there are three buckets. Two with vile goat water, and another one for the inevitable future of them spiting out the water. The two of them only nodded, which prompted another piece of information from Bucky. 

“We should remind you all that they have agreed not to talk… for some reason.” The wordless expressions on Sam and Steves face make Bucky laugh, both in the video and as he watches it. 

“I did not ditch Nakia for this nonsense.” Okoye muttered from the side, and Bucky grinned, tears rolling down his face. God, he missed them so much. 

“Ok, ok. Three, two, one, go!” Safe to say, neither lasted very long. Sam was the victor, but even in his competitiveness, Bucky vaguely remembers, as the video cuts off, Sam saying: “That was not worth it at allI .” 

Bucky misses when it was simple. 

~~~~~~~~~

“God, remember when me and Steve drank goat bath water.” Sam head was resting against the called stone. “That was so dumb. I should’ve pushed you and Bucky in that damn water. Your faces we’re too smug, I swear.” Sam laughed to himself, remember the face of disgust Steve made, the laughter of Bucky, of Nat, of Shuri, of Okoye, of T’Challa. The sun beaming down. The water could’ve been a nice relief if it wasn’t absolutely disgusting. 

“I miss you, Nat.” his voice was quiet, almost like it was a secret. Like if someone knew he hurt. Knew how much he missed Nat as much as he did, he would become vulnerable. And he couldn’t have that. He needed an outer shell of some kind, a guard. He’s let it down too many times already. He always knew how to be strong. If he let himself fall, he was afraid he’d shatter. That’s why he always catches himself. That’s why he can never forgive himself when he can’t catch someone else.

“I miss everyone.”

Sam must’ve not heard the crunching leaves, the footsteps that approached him, or the fact that someone settled on the other side of the headstone. He only noticed the soft sniffle from beside him, and turned to see Yelena, her blonde hair blowing gently in the window. 

With a start, Sam gets up, brushing the leaves off his jeans. “You know, you don’t have to leave every time I show up here.” Yelena said to him, not looking up. Sam’s eyes widened, as if he thought she didn’t notice that that’s what he does every damn time

“I just, I figured you’d want to be alone.” Sam said quietly, fidgeting with his hands. Yelena scoffed, shaking her head. 

“Do you want to be alone, Sam?” that was a loaded question. Does he? No. Is he? Probably.

“I- no”

“Neither do I. So, maybe, since we’re both alone, and if you don’t mind, stay.” Yelena said, a small smile Sam can hear in her voice. Sam smiled too, and sat back down without another word. Tears fell between the two of them, and then they left, side by side. They both knew what each other was feeling without even asking. They had both lost so damn much. 

~~~~~~~~~

Sam’s home, a jab from Sarah about being gone for so long, a tackle from his two nephews, and now, he was up in his room, his eyes glued on the shield. He put this off long enough. The shield was going back to where it belonged. In the Smithsonian. Out of Sam’s story. 

Chapter Text

See the legacy of the shield, immortalized in Washington D.C

Bucky’s jaw clenched. Sam really did it. He really went through with it. Of course he did. Bucky didn’t doubt that he would. What he didn’t think would happen is that they’d make a big thing about it all. It was a lot. Somewhere, he knew that the government wouldn’t keep their word. He knew they’d send it off to the next guy they could find, with the average strength, maybe a few medals. And he would blame Sam. Because if he started thinking logically, it wouldn’t end well for either of them. 

He’s going, for some ungodly reason, he’s gonna go watch the symbol that he thought he’d watch Sam carry. And he’d be there. Now, now Sam was gone. And the shield was just gonna gather dust in a Smithsonian. Or be yelled by someone who doesn’t deserve

Things could’ve been different. Things could’ve been so, so different.

~~~~~~~~~

“So, you’re really going through with it.” Sarah said as Sam bounded down the stairs, duffle bag in one hand, shield in the other. He took in a sharp breath. He was. 

“Yeah, yeah I am.” Sam replied, his tone confident and prepared. Didn’t exactly match how he felt on the inside. He knew this is what he wanted to do. He knew it. This was Steve’s legacy. He passed it down to Sam, but Sam can’t take it. 

Sarah smiled at him, shaking her head slightly. “What?” he asked, an eyebrow raised in confusion.

“Nothin’.” She dismissed quickly, and Sam just rolled his eyes. With a wave and a ‘ be safe’ , Sam was out the door. It was about to be a long couple of days. 

~2 days later ~

People started trickling into the building shortly after Sam got there, reporters and reporters and more reporters started showing up, but Sam was off to the side, the shield in his hand, and the worst headache he’s had in a long time. It was a lot of stress, the blinding lights, the clicking of cameras. He noticed Rhodey walking over to him, and a small smile spread across his face. 

“Hey man.” Sam said, outstretching his hand. Rhodey smiled as well, shaking Sam’s hand.

“It’s good to see you, how you been?” Rhodey asked, making Sam sigh. What he supposed to say? Oh, you know, the person I thought I was going to marry is now ignoring my texts, I’ve missed my nephews entire lives, and my sister has had to fend for herself, and everyone who I cared for. Sam only smiled, nodding.

“Pretty good, same old, same old.” Rhodey chuckled, nodding his head. A solemn look passed over Rhodey’s face that Sam didn’t expect, and he opened his mouth to say something, a reporter or someone came to drag Rhodey for some interview or some statement that Sam couldn’t hear. 

Sam stood on the stage alone, looking out into the sea of reporters. He took another deep breath. It was gonna be alright. All of it was gonna be alright. 

If he was looking, he’d see the steel blue eyes glued onto him, shining in regret, in sorrow. If he was looking, he would know that Bucky, in that moment, was sorry. He didn’t mean for Sam to be alone. He wanted nothing more than to tell Sam that he wasn’t alone. But, he left Sam alone. He didn’t come back. He didn’t try to heal the wound he left on what they used to be. Maybe it’d be a bit easier. All of it. 

~~~~~~~~

“Thank you, Captain America, but this belongs to you.” Sam stared at the shield in his hands, the red, white and blue colours bright in his face, and he felt the burden leave lift from his shoulders as he handed the shield over. Thank god. Sam sighed, feeling all his anxieties, all his headaches, all his confusions leave his body. The shield was where it belonged. A piece of history.

~~~~~~~~~

Bucky contemplated going to talk to Sam. To apologize, to tell him he was so sorry, that he had come to his senses. That he wasn’t a coward, that he still loved Sam, still cared for him, and now, he’d listen to him. He would never make it about him. He just wanted Sam back. And now, without the shield, Bucky thought that maybe that could be possible. But would Sam forgive him? Would Bucky keep his word? Would Bucky not just lash out the next chance he gets? So, that’s why, as he watched Sam walk up to Rhodey, and watched as he walked away. He missed his chance. And now, now he was a coward. A coward he stared at his phone screen, anxious for a reply, a sign that it wasn’t over, that there was still something. Anything. And it walked away, as quickly as he walked in.

Bucky missed the way he spoke confidently, no matter how much his mind shook. Bucky could feel it, as Sam spoke, how fast his heart was beating. Bucky missed the chocolate eyes. Bucky saw the strength in Sam’s eyes, the less than nice lighting still making his eyes dazzle and sparkle. Like a star hanging in the sky. Even after all these months, he felt himself losing himself in Sam’s eyes, the familiar feeling of drowning in warmth. Until the shield was handed over. Until Sam walked off the stage. Bucky felt the cool breeze float back in the room, and he left, going back to drown in the memory, in sorrow.

~~~~~~~~~

Sam stared at his reflection in the glass, the shield encased, a relic of history, nothing more. Finally. The burden was gone. The shield was where Sam always knew it should be. Where it had to be. If anything was different, if the world wasn’t something so broken, so horrible, so unfair, maybe he could wield it. But not yet. Not in this timeline. Sam couldn’t do that, he never wants to even consider it. It was out of his hands.

~~~~~~~

As Sam walked out, he passed the wall dedicated to Bucky. He had passed it when he walked with Rhodey, but he didn’t think to stop. He didn’t really know why he stopped now, but he did. The picture showcased was one from the folder, when Sam was looking for him, when they didn’t know each other. When life was simple. When Sam had less regrets. When Sam was alone, and he was okay with it. When Sam thought that agreeing with Steve was a good idea. Was the smart play. When he didn’t think about the life of his family. How he’d miss it, how he’d leave Sarah, leave his community when he should’ve been there. 

Now he is there. And he’s not leaving. 

His hand passed over the display. “You could’ve been there. But you hurt me. I needed help, and you ignored me. You could've come home to me.” Sam muttered, almost pathetically. Bucky would’ve loved Delacroix. He should’ve loved it. If only. If only, if only, if only. If only forever lasted as long as Bucky promised. If only it lasted as long as Sam needed it to. Forever is never ending hope, and one of the biggest lies.

Sam believed the lie, and followed the hope blindly, not bothering to look both ways before he crossed the road, heading straight into traffic. If only he had looked, or waited and closed his eyes a bit longer. 

What he saw was a stranger, but when he opened his eyes, a bit too quickly, he saw love. Someone who’d never be a stranger again. Because how could he not recognize that smile, and the eyes that shimmer and shine in the moonlight. No, that was something unforgettable, something that will last like a flame. 

Burning, and burning and burning. 

Until it went out. Until it went dark. Until they eyes were cold, and angry. Until the smile turned into a frown, a quivering lip that wouldn’t dare let a sob tumble from it. Until the moon that made the eyes dazzle, bright and brilliant, was the moon they both looked at, worlds apart. They weren’t strangers, they were a memory, a lost thought that they savoured, that they held onto like a lifeline. 

They weren’t strangers, they were worse. They were so much worse. Sam still had Bucky’s smile in his head, the way it was brighter than the moon and the stars and the sun. The way it was perfect, it held every memory they shared. He still had Bucky’s eyes, like two dazzling jewels, but better. But so much better. They were far more precious than a dazzling silver, and far more rare than a diamond. They were beautiful. 

But now, it was just that, only a memory, only a way to fall asleep. The flame was out, and Sam was done looking for a spark.

~~~~~~~~

Once Sam got back, it felt different. A good different. He didn’t have the nagging thought of the shield, or Bucky, in the back of his mind. It was nice. It felt normal again. Now, the biggest thing he had to worry about was this damn boat. How Sarah so desperately wanted to sell it, but Sam just couldn’t let it go. 

~~~~~~~~

As Bucky stared out the plane window, the pale moonlight illuminating his face, he thought about all of it. The shield. Sam. And he thought, vaguely, how everything could be alright. How, maybe, if he gave himself a bit more time, he would be alright. They, in all theory, could be alright.

Unfortunately, neither men can see the future, so, they never expected something else to interfere, only days later.

Chapter Text

Sam was still running off a high of anger from the banker a few days ago, so this really wasn’t a good addition.

“Join me in welcoming your new Captain America.” Sam bowed his head, tears welling in his eyes. They gave it away. It wasn’t theirs to give away. He put it in that damn Smithsonian 5 goddamn days ago. They couldn’t have found him in 5 days. Sam realized what happened. They wanted him to give the shield away. They needed that shield so they could prop up the next white boy they could find. Sam knows exactly what happened. Maybe this is why Bucky didn’t want him to give the shield away. It’s too late now, though. The shield is gone. Really gone.

He felt Sarah’s hand squeeze his shoulder, and he still can’t meet her eye. She probably knew this would happen, he could feel the anger, the frustration radiating off of her. He felt the exact same. “Ain’t your fault.” she said softly, and left the room, knowing that Sam would need some space. 

Sam should’ve seen this coming, he should’ve known that they would’ve turned around and handed it to the next guy in line. He didn’t know why he expected anything different. He knew the government, he knew how they acted, he knew how they were. But he really thought that maybe, just this one time, they’d keep their word. They’d let the shield become a part of history, like it deserves to be. John Walker isn’t what people need. They don’t need an action figure to stand up there and carry around a shield. They need a real hero, shield or no shield. Sam has a feeling Walker isn’t that. They need someone who is Captain America, not just someone named Captain America. That isn’t Walker. Sam couldn’t do it. Walker shouldn’t. God, Sam normally can give people benefit of the doubt, but this, not this. The government went against his direct wish and handed it off. That couldn’t be forgiven, shrugged aside. 

~~~~~~~~

Bucky clenched his jaw. “Your new Captain America.” really? Steve never mentioned him. Bucky knew it wasn’t a good idea. He knew it. He didn’t know why Sam was so blind to what could’ve happened. Bucky thought Sam should’ve kept it for a lot of reasons. He would’ve been Captain America. Sam is what Captain America stands for. Bucky just didn’t get it. And now, now John Walker has the shield. Bucky can’t grasp as to why Sam gave it away, why he couldn’t see this coming. Why he couldn’t see that he was the clear choice, the only choice to do it. 

God, Bucky was angry. Bucky was fuming. He took out his phone and snapped a picture of John Walker, who was shaking hands with random people Bucky figured were important. 

Buck: Funny, Steve never mentioned him

~~~~~~~

“Are you kidding me?” Sam said aloud, staring wide eyed and angry at the phone. 

Sam: Are you serious right now 

Sam had enough, if Bucky was gonna come at him with that, then he should be ready for Sam has to say. The phone rings two times, and Bucky picks up. 

“You’re so stupid.” Bucky spat out bitterly, and Sam scoffed, shaking his head. “And you’re a petty coward. What, ignore me for months on end, and then come whining to me when something you don’t like happens?”

“If you had kept the shield, none of this would’ve happened.” Bucky was yelling now, his voice was shaky. Sam felt sick, felt like he wasn’t really him. Like he needed to crawl out of his skin. “There it is again. Seriously, you really can’t let this go, can you? This doesn’t concern you, Barnes.” Sam knew that’d sting. It hurt him to say it, but he  was beyond frustrated, beyond angry, beyond hurt. He was fuming. 

“It wasn’t yours to give away.” 

“I didn’t to give it to Walker, now did I?”

“Well who put it in a museum?” Sam shut his eyes, pitching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “Alright, shut up.” 

“No, no.” Oh, fantastic. “If you didn’t throw away the shield, Walker wouldn’t have it.” Bucky really did think Sam was stupid. “I realize that, but I couldn’t take it, alright?”

“Maybe I’m not the only coward, then.” Sam felt tears welling in his eyes. 

“Maybe not. But at least I didn’t ignore someone who was just trying to help.”

“Who said I needed help?” Bucky’s tone is bitter, closed off. A tone Sam had heard too much in his life. Sam shuts his eyes, and without thinking, he muttered,

“Who said the help was for you?” Sam’s voice is shaky and quiet now, tears finally rolling down his cheeks. He didn’t mean to say that, he wanted to keep a front, he wanted to make sure Bucky didn’t know that he was hurting as much as he was. Maybe he hurt too much to even do that. 

“Sam.” Bucky’s voice was softer now, everything, well, most things clicking for him. He was asking a question without saying it. He was asking if Sam meant what he thought he meant. And he did. Because Sam could tell what Bucky thought. And he was right.

“Yep.” and Sam hung up. He didn’t need to listen to Bucky mope and whine about how sorry he was. He didn’t need to hear that. Any good person would be sorry. But, no good person breaks their promises, no good person lies. No, Sam was beyond angry. Sam isn’t Bucky’s anger management punching bag. After months of Sam trying to fix something that was repairable, Bucky decides that this would be a good time to talk. Not even about them, about the damn shield. Bucky really needed to get his priorities straight if he had an interest of seeing Sam, no, scratch that, of talking to Sam again. 

Sam phone buzzed in his hand. Bucky. After months and months and months, Bucky finally comes crawling back, after learning that he did in fact hurt Sam. What a concept. Sam laughed, hysterically and teary. He sets the phone down, letting it ring. Well, not before sending one last text.

Sam: get your goddamn priorities straight, then think about talking to me

Sam walked out of the room, hoping to get some fresh air. 

~~~~~~~~~

Bucky had his priorities straight. He was going to see Sam, whether he liked it or not. First, he had to clear the messages, the phone calls, everything, or else Raynor was about to have a field day. 

~~~~~~~~~

“You holding up?” Sarah asked him over dinner, after the boys ran off into the living room to play video games. Sam shovelled down the last of his dinner and nodded. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” he said through bites of his food. Sarah made a noise of disgust. “God, you’re worse than my boys.” she said quietly, and Sam shot her a glare over his food. 

“Whatever.” he said, rolling his eyes. Sarah snickered as she washed the dishes. Sam could tell she had something to say, but something was stopping her. Sam figured it was something about the boat, so he didn’t wanna push it. She’d say it soon enough.

~~~~~~~~

It took Sam inviting her to work on the boat with him that she’d finally spill. “You really don’t wanna sell this boat, do you?” Sarah speculated, her hands on her hips as Sam was glancing nervously at the engine. “No, I don’t.” He said bluntly. This was one of the last things that was still here from when Sam was growing up, and he couldn’t lose it. 

“Sarah, we grew up on it. It’s one of the last thing that’s lasted. I can’t lose it.”

“Look, sentimental value doesn’t have as much value as you think it does. We already got denied by the bank, it’s a lost cause.” Sarah said, her voice rising just a bit. Sam sighed, bowing his head. 

“I know, I just… don’t you want the boys to grow up on here? To do what we did? Sarah, I remember those days like they were yesterday. They should have the same thing.” Sam could see the look in his sisters eyes. He could see she was really thinking about this, as if her mind took her back in time to live in those moments. They laughed and grinned and were stupid siblings. Shouldn’t the two boys get that, too?

“Sam, I get that, I really do. But I also want to send them to college, you know?” Sarah stammered, and Sam could see the tears in her eyes. He knew that money was tight, he knew all of that, but he thought he could help. He thought, maybe, it could work.

“I know, I’m sorry, I know.” Sam realized that she needed to sell the boat. She was scared. He noticed how she furiously blinked away her tears, and Sam could feel nothing but regret and remorse settle in his stomach. “Hey, Sar, c’mere.” he murmured, and Sarah wrapped her arms around him, crying into his shoulder. They were gonna figure it out. They had to. Because seeing Sarah like this hurt Sam in a way he never thought would happen. He regretted not being there when she needed him a lot, but he never thought about how much she still needed him, not until right now. Not until she had her head buried in the crook of Sam’s neck, so desperately trying to make sure her sons get into college. 

Sam felt his heart shatter in a million different pieces, and he knew better than to let go before she did, so there they stood. Sam hadn’t seen Sarah break down like this since… since her husband died. It was one of the lasts nights before he went on the run, which was an absolutely horrible thought that Sam hated more than anything. He should’ve been there.

But now he is here. He’s right here. He’s here, and he’s never letting go. 

~~~~~~~~~

“Keep me updated Torres. I’ll get Redwing working on something.” 

Later that night, Joaquin called urgently with news about the Flagsmashers. Apparently they’ve been going all around Europe, and are gathering allies very quickly. 

“Alright, thanks Sam.” Joaquin hung up, and Sam lied back, looking up at the ceiling. It was about 1 in the morning, and unfortunately, Sam didn’t think he’d be falling asleep anytime soon. Figures. 

With a sigh, Sam makes his way out the door quietly, the warm spring air feeling almost welcoming. The stars twinkled in the night sky, the pale light of the moon casting over the water. Sam felt like he finally had room to breathe. Finally.

~ 1 week later ~

“You shouldn’t have given up the shield, Sam.” Great. How the hell did Bucky even find him?

Chapter Text

“I hate to break it to you, but you can’t fight in a denim jacket.” Sam teased, eying Bucky’s get up. The older man rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Hate to break it to you, but yes I can. ” Bucky retorted, and Sam wanted nothing more than to punch him. 

“Do whatever you want, emo. I’m just saying.” Sam revelled in the fact that Bucky made a face of confusion when Sam called him ‘emo.’. “ Listen, I don’t why you’re here, but if you’re gonna stay here,  at least pretend to be professional.”

“You don’t say?” 

Sam stuck his tongue out at Bucky, and the other man rolled his time the second time in about 30 seconds. “The issue is,” Bucky continued, “I don’t have any tact gear.” Sam raised an amused eyebrow at Bucky, who kept his cold stare on Sam. 

“How unfortunate, I guess you will not be joining me.” Sam thought this was reasonable behaviour for how Bucky treated him for months on end. And he could be less civil, he could rip Bucky a new one. But he’s not going to. Because he’s an overall good person. Instead of brooding in silence, Bucky got up, and started digging through Sam’s duffle bag. The younger man rolled his eyes, heading over to talk to Torres for a minute.

When he got back, he saw Bucky standing over his duffle bag with a familiar jacket in his hands. Sam forgot he packed Bucky’s jacket by mistake. The sly and snarky grin on Bucky’s face was not helping the situation. “I’ve seen this before, but I can’t place where.” The taller man taunted, and Sam glared at him, only making Bucky grin wider. 

“Didn’t you pack my bags? Which, by the way, that note was real mature.” Sam retorted, and Bucky’s grin fell, replaced with a fed up frown. Now Sam was the one grinning. “Well, I did find on your side of the closet.”

“We shared a closet, idiot.” 

Bucky slipped the jacket on wordlessly, and took a seat on one of the benches lining the jet walls. Sam rolled his eyes, and wanted to kick himself in the shins for staring at Bucky. It was a nice jacket. It was clearly a nice jacket. Sam took the seat opposite of him, feeling Bucky’s eyes on him every stride. 

As he sat down, he made eye contact with Bucky, and the brunette didn’t look away. An unofficial staring contest started. Dear god.

“One minute till drop off, Sam.”

~~~~~~~~~

Bucky felt like he was falling. He was falling. He was holding onto the metal bar tight, he knew it was too tight by the way it slowly crushed under his grasp. He heard Sam voice. “That little girl kicked your ass!” Bucky couldn’t really form a coherent comeback, as he felt like he was about to die, and he probably was about to die. So, he did the next best thing, and yelled incoherently at Sam. It got the point across. Unfortunately he could not revel in his fantastic communication skills for too long, because the metal fell with a loud crack. Bucky gasped softly, letting his metal arm fall and graze the road. He could barely process what was happening before he felt someone catch. Sam. 

They tumble down the yellow field, and Bucky grips Sam tighter than he ever had. He thought he was falling. He was here. So was Sam. Jesus Christ, Sam. He almost got himself killed trying to save Bucky. This idiot. 

They stopped tumbling, and Bucky found himself looking into Sam’s chocolate brown eyes, and he almost forgot how to breathe. Well, a lot of things just happened to make breathing more difficult, but Jesus, Sam’s eyes. He waited, and dreaded, for Sam to push him off, but Bucky had a snarky comment on his tongue. “Could’ve really used that shield.” Bucky grumbled out, and he watched as Sam’s face fell a bit more. 

“Get off of me.” With a thud, Bucky gets pushed off. Bucky’s mind is millions of miles away, lost in a world where Sam was staring at him with intensity, the luminous eyes glazed with fire. Bucky really needed a hobby. 

“Those were all super soldiers, Sam.”

“I know.” Sam paused, “you’re welcome, by the way.” Bucky rolled his eyes, not daring to meet Sam’s eye. He heard Sam sit up, the leaves crunching beneath him. With a sigh, Bucky sat up too, not looking in Sam’s direction. 

“Were you always this stupid?” Sam questioned, his voice light and airy. Bucky raised his eyebrows, his mouth twisting into a frown. “Thanks.” Bucky growled, looking at the ground. Sam’s light laugh almost made Bucky turn his head, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

“No, I mean, you jumped out of a plane.”

“Well you could’ve given me a bit more information.” 

“I didn’t want you to come, which, even though I just saved you, still a very real belief.”

Bucky scoffed, shaking his head. He knew Sam didn’t want him on the mission. He had made it quite clear. “Well, I’m here now.” Bucky had to bite back his smirk, finally making eye contact with Sam. He had a frown on his face, but Bucky could tell he was holding back a smile. This’ll be fun. Wordlessly, Bucky got up, extending his hand out for Sam. With a glare, Sam took it, and walked out of the clearing, ignoring each time they brush their hands together. Just because they ignore, doesn’t mean it doesn’t send a speckle of pink across both their faces. Because, it definitely does.

~~~~~~~~

Sam walked down the path, Bucky’s frame is always in his vision, his weird strut that Sam will forever make fun of is back in full swing, and Sam can’t help but snicker. “I can hear you.” Bucky shouted. Damned super soldier hearing. 

“Stop strutting.” Sam called back, discretely picking up his speed. He could practically hear Bucky roll his eyes, and that was enough to make Sam grin. He catches up to Bucky quite quickly, and he noticed how Bucky’s eyes go wide at the sight of him right beside him. 

Sam started to snicker again, shaking his head. “That is the second time I’ve sneaked up on you today. Let’s hope those gears aren’t getting too rusty.” Sam smirked at his own joke, and at the fact that Bucky looked pointedly pissed off.  It almost lifted his mood, if it wasn’t for Walmart Cap back there. 

Bucky turned to glare at him, no hint of a smile ghosting on his face. Sam’s face fell, and they walked back, hands brushing awkwardly every so often. If only this was under different circumstances. If only everything was under different circumstances. 

~~~~~~~~~

Sam sat in the police station for 3 and a half hours. He sat in his thoughts, and questioned why he was even doing this. Why was he sitting in a police station, waiting for Bucky. After everything that went down between them, Sam was always there. And he hated it. He was hurt because of what Bucky said. Everything he’s said. And how he kept Sam in the dark for years about a Black Super Soldier. It broke him, and yet he was still here, in a cramped police station. Because he never stopped caring. Sam really needed to get better at that. Maybe if he stopped, if he stopped letting people fall back on him, stopped letting people rely on him so damn much. If he stopped caring as much he did, maybe he would get hurt a little less. Maybe if everything was different. Different circumstances.

Sam felt emotionally drained, like he couldn’t function. He didn’t expect Bucky to show up. He sure as hell didn’t want Bucky to show up, but he was here, and he didn’t seem to be leaving any time soon. God, after what he said before this, Sam didn’t think he’d have the guts to show up, but here he is, alive and pissed off. After everything they’d been through, everything , Sam thought that Bucky wouldn’t pull something like this. Clearly, he was wrong. After searching for Bucky, after finding Bucky, he lost him. Now Bucky found Sam, but Sam didn’t know what to make of it. They’re hurt, they bleed, but this time, they bleed the same blood on the others hand. 

“Sam.” A woman's voice cut through his thoughts, and he looked up from staring at the floor, and met the woman’s eye. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Dr Raynor, I’m James’ therapist.” Ah yes, the woman who emailed him Bucky’s pardon. How could he forget. “Your crazy ex is talking about you please help” Thanks Raynor, now my crazy ex is here, and won’t leave me alone. “Good to meet you, thank you for getting him out.”

“That was not me.”

“Christina!” Oh, great, so this day went from tolerable, to frustrating, to heartbreaking, to absolute hell. Must be a new record for Sam. 

~~~~~~~~

“I can’t believe we’re going to see Zemo.” Sam muttered as they boarded the jet, fresh outta couples therapy. Bucky just can’t keep himself from gossiping, can he? “Do you have any better ideas?” Bucky snapped, his eyes sharp and his jaw clenched. Sam huffed, lips settling into a frown. “No.” Sam replied bitterly, and Bucky scoffed.

“So quit whining.” 

Sam rolled his eyes, plopping down on the bench lining the wall of the jet. Bucky sat opposite to him, and Sam didn’t dare lock eyes. He just pulled his jacket off, using it as a make shift pillow. 

“Uh, sorry about Raynor.” Bucky added awkwardly about 5 minutes later, and Sam snorted softly. Yeah, she’s a lot. She also forwarded him Bucky’s pardon, so Sam made some assumptions.

“Didn’t know the word sorry was in your vocabulary.” Sam muttered, probably too petty, probably too childish, but he was fed up. He was tired. He wanted nothing more than to go home. But they have a job to do. Unfortunately.

Bucky didn’t have a comeback, he just kept quiet and laid down, too, even though they both knew neither of them would get proper rest that they needed.

Chapter Text

Falling. Falling. Falling. Sam didn’t catch him. Falling. Falling. Falling. The air was cold, the snow was falling. His arm felt numb. He felt numb. Because he fell. And Sam didn’t catch him. Sam wasn’t there to swoop in. Sam was gone. What if Sam fell, too? What if, what if, what if?

Bucky snapped his eyes open, the darkness from the night sky pooling into the jet. He thought that maybe he was still in a nightmare when he heard thrashing and whimpering. But it didn’t sound like him. Sam. It was Sam. He didn’t know if he should go over and calm him down, or pretend to be asleep. But he couldn’t ignore the pain on Sam’s face.

He padded over to Sam, watching as Sam’s eyes shut tighter and tighter, the tears rolling down his face. Hesitantly, Bucky slunk onto the ground beside Sam, loosely holding his hand. For a moment, the air was colder, it smelled of grime and a faint smell of the street through the window Bucky only picked up from his super senses. He pulled his knees up to his chin, one arm dragged across them loosely. And everything was quiet. It was so quiet, it was so comfortable, and it was perfect. 

Bucky felt Sam’s hand grip his tighter, and Bucky turned to look at Sam, still sleeping, tears continuing to fall. Bucky wanted nothing more than to wipe his tears away, and bring Sam into his arms. But he couldn’t. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t. He leaned his head back, a tight grip still on Sam’s hand.

A small gasp came from the other mans lips, and Bucky turned his head slowly. It looked like it took Sam a few moments to register what was going on, and he did, the grip on Bucky’s hand became loose, and he sat up a bit. “I’m sorry I woke you up.” Sam murmured, not breaking eye contact with Bucky. Bucky shook his head, letting the smallest of smiles slip onto his lips. 

“I was already up, don’t worry.” Bucky hesitated before adding, “I’m a light sleeper anyway, remember.” Sam offered him a soft smile, and everything seemed okay. Somehow. Even if that was the furthest from the truth. They kept eye contact, a silent understanding. When Bucky made to move, Sam squeezed his hand. A wordless stay . The entire interaction felt surreal, like a dream. Sam smiled at him, lied back down, shutting his eyes.

Bucky smiled softly, and leaned his head back. Once he heard even breaths and Sam chest’s rose and fell softly, Bucky brought their intertwined hands up to his lips. “G’night Sam.”

What Bucky did not predict was Sam still being awake. Thankfully, Sam was too out of it and drained to even register what just happened in full. 

~~~~~~~~~

He would, however, notice when he woke up. Because when he woke up, he found Bucky’s head pressed against his leg, and Bucky’s lips ghosting over his calloused knuckles. That’s when Sam’s breath quickens by more than a bit, and that’s when he realized he was trapped and could not get up. What a morning, sweet Christ.

~~~~~~~~

It had been about 12 hours since Sam woke up, and everything's already went to hell. More than it already has. They were on Zemo’s private plane, which is something Sam never predicted. Ever. Bucky, the genius he is, has decided to join forces with this psychopath. Without telling Sam. Because of course. Why would he consult Sam on having a criminal join them on their little adventure. Which, by the way, isn’t even Bucky’s mission. Sam wasn’t having any of it, and it was only getting worse. 

Bucky and him stood in a cramped hallway, out of earshot from Zemo. “You sure we can trust him?” Sam questioned, and he could see the conflict on Bucky’s face. “He’s the only chance we got, and I don’t wanna risk it.” Bucky retorted, and Sam shook his head. “Risking it? Bucky, he’s the definition of risking it.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes, even though he knew Sam was right.  “And you didn’t answer my question. Can we trust him?” Sam added, his voice quiet, staring at Bucky, waiting for an answer. Bucky sighed, shaking his head. “Listen, I know what he’s done, what he did , you gave me the recap back there,” Sam rolled his eyes, “but, he’s the only chance we got. He knows everything there is about the serum. I know you know that.”

“I still don’t trust him.” Sam said, his tone sounding like he was ending the conversation. Bucky sighed, nodding his head, “Neither do I.” 

~~~~~~~~

How Sam ended up in a turtleneck at Sharon’s party, where she sells art pieces, Sam will never know. This day got worse and worse. Somehow, Sam and Bucky were able to get away from the crowd, sipping drinks around a table, tucked away. “There’s something up.” Bucky whispered grimly, eyes wandering over the room. Sam exhaled calmly, nodding his head. “I know. First Zemo, and now Sharon.”

“Well, there’s always something up with Zemo. And Sharon technically kissed her uncle.”

“Well, she didn’t know that it was her ‘uncle’.”

“Oh, and that makes it better?”

“Did I say that?” Bucky rolled his eyes, and Sam just sighed, shaking his head. “But you’re right- ”

“Ooh, you’re going to regret ever saying that.” Bucky interrupted with an amused smile on his face now, but Sam’s disgruntled expression was still on his face. “ As I was saying , something is up.”

“Could be the thrift store Cap.” Bucky huffed, causing Sam to snort softly. An amused smile spread into a grin, and they shared a glance, feeling a familiar air, a playfulness, a comfortable feeling. “I’m bored, wanna go judge some art?” Sam asked, and Bucky nodded, a small smile on his face. 

“Hell yeah.”

~~~~~~~~~

“Look, it’s you.” Bucky pointed to a painting of a bird, and Sam almost pushed that stupid face, with that stupidly pretty smile through the painting. Instead, as a less violent option, he glared at Bucky, walking away. “No, wait! Goddammit Sam.” Bucky shouted, a giant grin on his face. Sam turned around on his slowly, an expectant look on his face. 

“I am very sorry you were not aware you were a bird.” Bucky said with a condescending tone. Sam gave him another glare, causing Bucky to grin even wider. “You’re so annoying.” Sam muttered, watching as Bucky strolled over to him. Bucky’s eyes passed over Sam, and the turtleneck, the one he now couldn’t pointedly ignore. “You should keep the shirt. Looks good.”

The smile on Bucky’s face was wide and charming, smiling with his eyes. Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head, pointedly not looking at Bucky in the eye, or else he might collapse from the look Bucky was giving him. “Oh my god.” Sam sighed before quietly adding, “you might as well keep the blazer if we’re stealing from Sharon’s wardrobe.” 

They both stared at each other for a second, face flushed, before Bucky coughed awkwardly. With that, they made their way through the gallery, until Sharon said she found Nagel. Dear God, the 5 months split was not doing good things for them, or their flirting game. But that was to be expected.

~~~~~~~

Bucky knows what the look on Sam’s face means. Neither of them want to find out what Zemo means by “coming face to face with Karli.” but it didn’t sound good. After Bucky’s little outburst about the shield, Sam had stayed silent, only sharing the news about Madani. When Zemo left them both alone to go do god knows what, Sam still stayed silent. Bucky almost thought he fell asleep, until he saw how Sam became fidgety. He does it when he has something on his mind. Bucky knows not to put pressure on Sam to say it, because it may not end well.

“You don’t change, eh?”

Bucky squinted at him, clearly not understanding what Sam was saying. The younger man got the hint. “I left you alone for months, and yet all I get is more talk about the shield, more talk about how I gave Walker the shield. I told you to get your priorities straight before you come and talk to me, but I guess that went over your head.”

“I have my priorities straight. That shield is something that needs someone good behind it. So, if Walker isn’t gonna give it up, and if you aren’t gonna be brave enough to grab it for yourself, then I will go and get it. That’s my priority.” 

Sam looked at him like he never had before. Not like when they fought, not like when they were happy. This was something new. This was different. “I guess I shouldn’t get in your way, considering you stand for a name, a symbol, more than you’ll stand for me. I thought you were braver than that.” 

Sam gets up with a shake of his head, leaving Bucky alone with his thoughts. “Dammit.” Bucky cursed under his breath, chuckling only to himself. God, he’s such an idiot. 

~~~~~~~~

Why Sam even let Bucky come along, he would never know. But he was here, and he was on Zemos private plane. Obviously. And god knows what Zemo has in store for them once the rhea Riga. And Isiah was treated like he wasn’t someone with, like he wasn’t someone who mattered, which makes Sam’s skin prickle with anger. Oh, and Bucky’s still Bucky, making everything about himself for no apparent reason. Sam wanted nothing more than to go home. 

~~~~~~~

“I’m gonna go take a walk.”

“You good?” 

“Yep, I’ll catch up with you guys.” Yeah, Bucky wasn’t good.

Chapter Text

Sam waited for Bucky anxiously on Zemo's ridiculously nice stools in Zemo’s ridiculously nice house that Sam isn’t even 100 percent sure belonged to Zemo. God knows what Bucky was actually doing, and Sam wasn’t gonna try to find out. Whatever it was, it seemed pretty important. “You’ve been quiet, Sam. Something on your mind?” Zemo questioned from the kitchen, being creepy as always. “You shooting someone is pretty up there, but other than that, I’m good.” Sam said with a shake of his head. Zemo only hummed, which was just as confusing and frustrating as him saying anything. Sam couldn’t even believe he was here, sitting with Zemo, in Zemo’s house. This man went from trying to brainwash Bucky again , split the Avengers apart, and now he owned scented soap. And a fur coat. What the hell was going on?

The doors opened with a small thud, and Sam turned to see Bucky walking into the house. He noticed the way Bucky’s eyes travelled around the room, and the way he mouthed What the hell . Sam bit back a smirk and paid attention to whatever he was about to say. 

“Well, the Wakandans are here. They want Zemo.”

Of course they do. 

~~~~~~~

“You really think this is the right move?” Bucky muttered to Sam as they walked through cobblestone streets, GRC posters plastered to every brick wall. Sam sighed, shrugging. “I think it’s our only move. Whether we’ll get anything is up in the air.” 

Bucky nodded, turning a corner. Zemo was a few feet in front of them, and they figured that was the best course of action given that both of them were getting increasingly frustrated with him. “I just hope the Dora get here sooner rather than later.” Bucky whispered, and a small smile spread across his lips. “I’ll second that.” Sam replied, catching a glimpse inside one of the  buildings. Kids who looked between 10 and 17 were learning basic math, spelling, and Sam knew Karli was right. She just wanted a proper life for these kids, some kind of justice for them. Sam knew it now, her fight was right, she just needed guidance. Needed someone to help her understand what she was doing.

~~~~~~

“You still think this is a good idea?” Sam muttered as they left Zemo’s house and into the streets of Riga. “Listen, I didn’t think we’d get here.” Bucky replied, still snappy and on edge from the small confrontation with Zemo. “It’s Zemo, what did you think would happen?” Sam paused, “How many hours did you say we had till the Dora got here?” 

“6 hours now.” Bucky answered, his voice hushed to a whisper. Sam nodded, and a familiar voice made both their eyebrows stitch together. “Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit.”

“Ah! How’d you find us now?”

~~~~~~~

“ And he’s not my partner ? Wow, could you be more petty?” Sam whispered as they followed Zemo and the little girl (Sam doesn’t even want to know why), shaking his head. Bucky rolled his eyes, turning to glance at Sam. “You’re upset about this now? Sideburns just showed up and that’s what you’re concerned about?” Bucky shot back, and Sam had to bite back a laugh. 

“Did you just call him Sideburns ?” 

Bucky was smirking now. Sam had an amused smile on his face, but it left as soon as he caught another glance inside a refugee building. Sam knew she was right. He knew that she was so in the right. But no one could see it. No one could understand her fight. She reminded Sam of himself, or maybe of Sarah. Deep down, she’s scared. Sam knows that. And she has hope. She knows what she’s fighting for, Sam just wished she didn’t have to do it alone. 

~~~~~~~~

Bucky rolled his eyes at Walker. It was laughable how he thought he had any power over him and Sam. If they really wanted to, they could both take him in a fight and come out on top. Maybe not easily, but still. Bucky couldn’t help but feel a sense of worry drown him. What Walker said wasn’t far off, Bucky knew Sam could handle Karli, but he couldn’t help worrying, couldn’t help wondering what would happen if he let Sam go do an opp alone and something goes wrong. He doesn’t think he’d let that happen, let an opp go so wrong that Sam doesn’t make it out, but he never really knows. 

He watched as Walker paced up and down the narrow room, how he looked more on edged than Bucky. Why Walker couldn’t just shut up and let them do what they had to do, Bucky would never understand. Sam was probably asking the same question about Bucky. 

~~~~~~~~

“Do you really want his blood on your hands?” Bucky could feel emotions bubbling out of him. Walker really knew how to hit him, didn’t he? He kept his face neutral, not to let his panic bubble out of him completely. “Listen, I don’t know what you think you can pull here, but you’re wrong.” Bucky’s tone was cold and sharp, watching as Walker raised an eyebrow at him, not buying his front. 

“I know what you think of Sam. You care about him, don’t you?” It felt he was dangling Sam’s worth in front of Bucky, like Walker knew too much, and he knew that. Walker was using Bucky’s love for Sam as a weapon, a way to get what he wants. And it was working. Jesus was it working. “If you don’t act fast, it might be too late.”

Bucky sucked in a breath, shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He knew Walker was lying to him. He knew manipulation. But he couldn’t help but think that he might be right. And if he was, Bucky would never forgive himself.

“Don’t lay a finger of harm on Karli or so help me god it will not end well for you.” Bucky warned him, his jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed on Walker. Bucky could tell that girl meant a lot to Sam, and he definitely was not gonna let Walker kill her in cold blood. She deserved a chance, if Sam was anything to go by. 

~~~~~~

“I lost her.”

“This place is a maze.”

They were both lost in this confusing building, not knowing what was up or down. “I can’t believe you let him go.” Sam said after a beat of silence. Bucky sighed, shaking his head. “Look, I get it, but it’s not like I wanted to.”

Sam scoffed, shaking his head. He started to walk down the hallway, Bucky on his heels. “How’d he convince you?” Sam asked, his voice laced in mockery. When the older man didn’t respond, Sam stopped walking all together. “How’d he convince you?” Sam repeated, an eyebrow raised in confusion. 

Buck sighed, closing his eyes. “He- he kept insinuating that if I didn’t let him interfere, something would happen to- to you.” Bucky mumbled, not meeting Sam’s eye.

“I’m your weakness, aren’t I, Barnes?” Maybe Sam hadn’t forgiven him, maybe Sam could never forgive him, but the way Sam said ‘Barnes’ made Bucky’s heart flutter. He looked up at Sam, bashful as ever, and he caught Sam smiling softly at him. “C’mon, let’s go.” Sam said, and they both took off down the hallways. 

~~~~~~~~~

“Sam.”

“I know what you’re gonna say.”

“She threatened your family, Sam, there’s nothing redeemable about that.” Sam knew Bucky was right. She definitely crossed a line. Hell, she crossed a lot of lines already, but this was personal. She knew she’d cut deep and she did. 

“I’m not letting you come with me.” Sam muttered, because he knew Bucky would get all ‘Bucky like’ and cause a huge outrage, but he wasn’t gonna drag Bucky into the line of fire. God knows what Karli would do. 

“Sam-”

“I’ve fought her before, Buck.” Sam interrupted, frustration seeping into his tone.

“But now it’s different. You’re angry, she’s obviously gotten angrier. I know why you don’t want me to come.” Sam opened his mouth to speak, but Bucky started talking before he could get a word out. “But please, Sam, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Sam sighed. He was not getting out of this one. “Fine.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh my god.” Bucky muttered, staring at Walker towering over a Flagsmasher he had just murdered . A chill was sent up both of Sam and Bucky’s. They locked eyes, the same worry in each other’s eye. This was really not good. This was horrible. In a flash, Walker took off down the path, and neither of them thought twice of sprinting after him. 

“I gotta take the shield.” Sam muttered as they turned a corner. “Ya think?” Bucky replied, eyes wide. 

Sam couldn’t believe what had happened. This’ll send Karli in a downward spiral. This was the last straw. Well done Walker. That shield, that symbol has always been bloody. The red that runs around the star, the blue, and the white has been flowing through America’s veins for years, but the blood was never Americas, because it was always on America’s hands. Sam wanted to change that. He’s always wanted to change that. Sam wanted to wipe the blood from the foundations and help rebuild. Now he has to. 

~~~~~~~

Sam watched as Bucky walked away, watched as his hand moved across the vibranium shield, watched as his hand became coated with blood that wasn’t his, blood that belonged to an innocent kid. An innocent kid who was trying to do what he thought was right was killed by Captain America. That kid could’ve been AJ or Cass. It could’ve been everyone who wanted to do something right. And the symbol of America murdered them in cold blood. 

“Sam!” Bucky’s voice could be heard from outside the warehouse, making Sam look up, wiping his tears that had mixed with blood away. He stood up, finding Bucky’s form outside the building, perched on a motorcycle. Oh, god please no. 

Sam griped the shield tight in his hand, walking over to the door. As he gets closer, the rumbling of the engine got louder. 

“Where did you even get that?” Sam yelled over the engine.

“Rental. Hop on.”

Sam sighed, and gestured to the shield. “My wings are in there, too.” Sam shouted, and Bucky rolled his eyes. 

“I already took care of that. That kid, Torres? Yeah, he’s coming to grab your stuff.”

Sam looked at him expectantly, and Bucky sighed. “Just, hop on.” Bucky invited, his eyes almost pleading. Sam sighed this time, shaking his head. He secured the shield onto his wing pack, not wanting to leave without it. 

“You said this was a rental? When are you planning to come back to Riga?”

“Alright so I stole it, but whatever, I don’t have all day.” Bucky said impatiently, and Sam walked towards him, settling himself on the motorcycle. He hesitantly wrapped his arms around Bucky’s waist, desperately trying to not make this awkward. He was doing a swell job at it, obviously. As if Bucky could sense Sam’s hesitance, Bucky brought his hand down and squeezed one of Sam’s hand, before speeding off into the city of Riga. As if on instinct, Sam held onto Bucky a bit tighter.

Sam set his chin on Bucky’s shoulder, the violent wind hitting their faces, and for a minute, everything stood still. Everything was okay. The shield on Sam’s back wasn’t a murder weapon. Bucky didn’t break Sam’s heart into 1000 pieces and never bothered to pick them back up. Sam’s hands weren’t soaked in a childs blood. Bucky never lied. Sam never believed those lies.

Maybe everything was fixed. Or at least on the way to being fixed. Maybe they could preten

Chapter Text

They arrived to Karlis vacated camp in a matter of minutes, the blood still on Sam’s hand, and on the shield. “You okay?” Bucky asked as Sam stood beside the motorcycle, Bucky leaning against it. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m good.” Bucky could see through that as easily as you can see through glass. “No, you’re not.” Bucky said softly, and watched as Sam’s face became softer, the way his eyes told Bucky all he needed to know. No, he wasn’t, but he didn’t want to say it. Because if he didn’t stay, then maybe it would all be okay. But it wasn’t. But it really wasn’t. 

Sam had a child's blood on his hand. He had to watch the symbol he had stood behind murder an innocent child. He was far from okay. Sam sighed, and he felt a hand on his shoulder. Bucky. The cool vibranium was set on his shoulder, Bucky’s thumb brushing against Sam’s shoulder. “John’ll get his punishment, that kid will get his justice. You didn’t kill him.”

“But that symbol did. The symbol on my back has a kid's blood spread across.” Sam muttered, close to tears. Bucky nodded, a lump in his throat. Bucky knew what he meant. Bucky knew that this would stay with Sam for a long, long time. If Walker doesn’t get what he deserved, then Bucky doesn’t know how Sam would be. He doesn’t know how he’d be. Bucky’s stood behind that symbol for a long time. As long as he’s had full control, that was the symbol he fought for. And now it had blood smeared across it. 

“C’mon, let’s get changed.” Bucky suggested quietly, his hand slipping behind Sam’s neck, resting along his shoulders. They made their way inside, hearing the sound of helicopters above them, no doubt the GRC trying to track down Karli. Or Walker, for that matter. 

~~~~~~~

Sam was scrubbing the blood from the shield, from his hand, and he felt like he was gonna pass out. Could it have been from the constant action and little to no sleep? Could it have been watching a child die in front of him? Could it have been the blood loss? It was probably all those things, realistically, but the feeling of wiping blood that wasn’t his off of Sam’s hand would never be easy. Especially when it was a kid. He rarely ever did it himself.

Sometime in this process, Sam had started to feel tears well in his eyes. He didn’t really notice he was crying until he felt Bucky presence in the doorway of the hidden room Sam had isolated himself in. 

“Sam.”

“I’m fine.” 

“Clearly.” Bucky paused, his eyes darting around the room. The shield, the red, Sam’s hand, the rag. “Here, lemme help you.” Bucky said, walking into the room slowly. Sam would’ve put up a fight if he wasn’t so tired. He only nodded, and watched as Bucky knelt down beside him. 

He noticed that Bucky was out of his one armed leather jacket, and dressed in the next all black outfit he could find. Sam smiled at him softly, and handed Bucky the blood soaked rag. The shield was cleaned, Sam made sure of that. But his hand. Most of it had either dried, some of it was wiped off on Bucky’s jacket on the way here. A bit of it was cleaned off by the rag while Sam was cleaning the shield, but there was still a lot of blood. 

Gingerly, Bucky held Sam’s hand in his metal hand, palm facing Bucky. The rag pressed lightly against Sam’s hand, wiping off the semi-dried blood. Sam didn’t know what it was, what had taken him over, he buried his face in the crook of Bucky’s neck, shutting his eyes tight.

Bucky was evidently thrown off by this gesture, and froze. If Sam noticed, he didn’t say anything. After all, it had been a long day. Not knowing how to react, Bucky just kept washing the blood from Sam’s hand. 

Once Bucky had finished, he realized that Sam’s even breath against Bucky’s neck meant Sam was sleeping. Realizing he was trapped for at least 10 minutes, Bucky started to check Sam for smaller wounds, making sure not to wake him up. 

As Bucky predicted, around 10 minutes later, Sam stirred awake, a soft look on his face that Bucky had to pry his eyes from to stop himself from staring. The rag was resting next to the shield, Sam’s hand and wounds cleaned.

“‘M sorry for fallin’ asleep on ya.” Sam murmured, his voice heavy with sleep. Bucky shook his head softly. “It’s fine. You deserve it. And I deserve the quiet.” Bucky replied with a smile. Sam rolled his eyes, wearing a smile that matched Bucky’s. 

“Torres texted me. He should be here in 20 minutes tops.” He informed Sam, and the younger man's only response was a nod, and got up, leaving Bucky alone with his thoughts.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you off to go take care of Zemo?” Bucky only nodded to Sam’s question, and slipped out of the building, finding the motorcycle he had ‘rented’ still outside. 

Bucky took off into the street, feeling a prickle of regret as he left Sam, vulnerable and not looking for help, but he knew he needed it. 

Sam got like that all the time, he was like that when Bucky first met him, when he wouldn’t talk about his nightmares, when he wouldn’t talk to Bucky when he offered him help. It was aggravating as much as it was heartbreaking. Obviously, Bucky got like that too, but seeing Sam like that was something that broke Bucky’s heart.

~~~~~~~

At the moment, Bucky was on a plane, heading back to New York. He had a plan. First, he’d go back to New York, and pack a bag. He doesn’t know where he’d go, but he isn’t staying in New York, he knows that. Then, he’d go find Zemo. 

Seemed like a good plan. Maybe those ‘long separate vacations’ Sam mentioned were kicking in. Bucky doesn’t know when he’d find Zemo, or where, for that matter. And Sam… Bucky doesn’t know what’s up with him and Sam. After months of ignoring Sam, hating Sam, blaming Sam, they fell into their routine a bit more than he thought they would. Banter, small moments, insults at each other's (and others) expense. It was nice. But then Bucky left. And he doesn’t know when he’s coming back.

But that doesn’t matter right now, because Bucky arrived in New York, and he has a plan. 

~~~~~~~~

His apartment was cold, and he missed rent, and his fridge looked like a green house. Dear god. Bucky moved away from the kitchen as quickly as possible, and walked into his room, and he really should’ve cleaned it out more.

After several minutes of digging through the mess of stuff piled up, he finds his duffle bag and a few outfits. While he was digging through all his stuff, he found a picture of Steve and Nat, undoubtedly taken by Sam. He was always really sentimental, printing off pictures, and he never deleted them off his phone. Bucky didn’t know if it stemmed from him telling Sam that “romance was dead” because no one actually carried around pictures of their partners anymore. Sam only rolled his eyes at Bucky, but ever since he said that, Bucky started seeing more pictures in the apartment.

Bucky stared at the picture for a bit longer before pocketing it, and slung the bag over his shoulder. He was making a quick detour.

~~~~~~~~

The plane ride was quick, Bucky was too preoccupied in his thoughts to really concentrate on anything else. The quickly changed, however, when he was walking down the street on the way to Nat, when he noticed a torn up pride flag in a window. Breathing got a bit harder.

Bucky thought- he thought it was okay. He thought everything was okay. He thought he was okay. He didn’t have to hide when he was with Sam. Well, he did, but for a different reason. Wasn’t the world better? Wasn’t it just a bit kinder? 

Guess not.

~~~~~~~~

“It’s been a rough couple of months, Nat.” Bucky said softly, kneeling down to set the picture from his pocket. He stayed there for a bit, his eyes catching the locket he and Sam put there, months and months ago. He wondered if Yelena came back monthly. If Sam came back. They probably did. Bucky hadn’t.

He sighed, scrolling through his phone, his mind was still distant, distracted. 

Racial profiling- the problem, the stats, the victims

“I’m such an idiot.” Bucky breathed out. Sam couldn’t take the shield not because he didn’t want to, but because he couldn’t. Because the world wasn’t fair, because of who he was. God, Bucky was so stupid.

“Nat, I’m so stupid.” He has to make this up. He has to understand. He has to try. God, Bucky should really think more often.

~~~~~~~~

The entire plane ride to Sokovia, Bucky reads up in racism in America, the privilege he has as a white man, racial discrimination, America’s dirty history, and Bucky’s downright fuming. This is- why didn’t he realize this sooner? Why didn’t he just listen ? 

Bucky never should’ve interfered with Sam’s decision, Bucky never should’ve said the words “just give him your ID.”  Bucky should’ve listened. Bucky never should’ve called Sam a coward. At the end of all of this, Bucky was definitely the coward. He was so in the wrong, he was so, so wrong.

~~~~~~~~

Sam: I have the shield, I think I might take up the mantle 

Bucky stared at the text, just as he was landing in what Sokovia used to be. Thank god , Bucky thought, because as long as John ‘Murder’ Walker didn’t have it, it was all fine. Bucky was glad Sam was taking up the mantle, he knew that no one else was better for the role, but now that he knew, now that he did simple research he should’ve done months ago, a pit of worry settled in him. He knew better than to tell Sam what to do (he learned that the most heartbreaking way possible) but that doesn’t mean he can’t worry about Sam. 

~~~~~~

“You want me to design Mr Wilsons new suit?” Shuri questioned, her excitement clear in her smile. Bucky arrived in Wakanda with the Dora after they dropped off Zemo, and Bucky knew what he needed. 

“Yes.” Bucky answered, a small smile on his face as he watched the giddy girl scrabble around her lab. “Well, do you have any ideas?” She inquired, already getting out her proper materials to make the suit. Bucky hesitated, because no, not really. Except…

“Um, he had this bird, he adored it, it was so annoying. Uh, Redwing. But a Flagsmasher kinda, you know, destroyed it. So maybe you could make him another one, or something.” Bucky suggested, almost shy. It didn’t help that Shuri was grinning at him so knowing and so amused. 

“You got it, Barnes. Let me know if you have any other suggestions.”

“Thanks, princess. You know when you’ll be done?” 

Shuri shrugged. “As soon as I can be.” Bucky smiled at her, nodding in thanks. 

~~~~~~~

“It looks, it looks fantastic, Shuri. Thank you, so much.” Bucky said upon seeing the finished Cap suit, 8 hours later. “I try.” She responded, a proud smile on her face. The case closed with a click, and Bucky picked it up by the handle. 

“Well, I should go drop this off.”

“You were seriously going to take one of those public planes you’ve been taking all this time?” T’Challa’s voice came from the doorway, making Bucky turn quickly. Bucky hesitated before replying.

“I just-”

“Whatever your excuse is, we don’t want it.” Shuri dismissed quickly. “We will bring you to Sam’s, won’t we brother.” T’Challa only nodded, and turned to walk back down the hall, gesturing for Shuri and Bucky to follow. With a sigh, Bucky followed. What a family.

~~~~~~~~

“Just dropping this off, you can sign for it, and I’ll go.” 

Chapter Text

Ok, truth is, Sam did not expect Bucky to show up to his family business, to his hometown, uninvited. Did it surprise him? Not as much as it should’ve. Did it make him wonder how he knew where to go? Most definitely. But, that wasn’t really on Sam’s mind, because Bucky’s hand ghosted over Sam’s hip, tapping it lightly. Sam quickly got out of Bucky’s way, hearing a bit of laughter from Sarah. Which was not helping. 

As Bucky stepped back, the pipe fixed, they stand there for a moment of silence before Sam said “Why didn’t you use the metal arm?”

Bucky hesitated, staring at the arm. “Well, I don’t think of it immediately, I’m right handed.” Sam chuckled softly, a small smile growing on his face. He leaned against the boat, and waited for either of them to speak. “So, this is the boat, huh?” Bucky asked, facing Sam. 

Sam nodded. “This is it.”

“It’s nice,” Bucky paused, “Want any help?” Ok, who was this new Bucky Barnes who was kind and helpful? He apparently had been an earlier model, as the one Sam knows is the one who makes a big deal outta nothing. Sam just nodded, gesturing for Bucky to follow him. 

“I’m Bucky.” Sam turned around real fast, an eyebrow raised comically high. “Ah, Sarah.” Of course she would play a long. Of course she would. Bucky, being who he is, is probably trying to flirt with Sarah to piss Sam off. It would work better if Bucky was actually good at flirting, but Sam was still a bit aggravated. Sam’s irritated mood would never go far, but judging by the snickering from behind him, Bucky knew that, too. 

~~~~~~~

They work on the boat the entire day, firing small insults back at each other all throughout it. But, there was a question that stayed in the back of Sam’s mind. “How’d you know where I lived?” Sam questioned, and he watched as Bucky paused. “You told me.” Bucky replied simply, but that wasn’t a good enough answer. “No, I told you Delacroix.”

“And about the boat, your sisters business. I listen, you know.” Bucky retorted, and it dawned on him, that yeah, he did. In 2014. Before he could stop it, Sam’s face split into a smile. “How’d you remember that?”

“I listen.” Bucky repeated, a smile of his own spreading onto his lips. Sam rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Buck.” 

Bucky’s smile didn’t leave his lips. He has some questions of his own. “Is that my shirt?” Bucky inquired, pointing at Sam’s shirt. Sam opened his mouth to respond, but he had no defence. Yes, Bucky packed his bags, but, there was no defence on why it was on Sam’s side of the closet. 

“I… yes.” Sam admitted. A wider smile grew on Bucky’s face, an amused look in his eyes. A sense of deja vu washed over Bucky. Maybe he was remembering a time in Bucharest, the time they were miles away, yet, Sam came back. Only for an hour or so, but he came back. And now Bucky was back, and he wasn’t leaving.

“What? Do you want it back? Like, right now?” Sam taunted, and Bucky rolled his eyes. 

“God you’re stupid.”

“It’s a genuine question.” Sam retorted, a grin spread across his face by now. “I’m keeping the shirt.” Sam added, his tone final. Bucky shook his head. 

“It’s mine.”

“Oh and like you didn’t steal my clothes. Uh huh, I would call this even.” Sam said, stubborn as ever. Bucky did have to admit, Sam looked far better in the shirt than he did, so maybe Bucky could let it slide. 

~~~~~~~

“I can take the couch.” Bucky insisted. Sam rolled his eyes. “I realize you can , but you’re not . You’re a guest .” Sam retorted, causing the taller man to roll his eyes. This was an unwinnable fight for Bucky. He was taking a proper bed, or Sam would never hear the end of it from Sarah. “Just let me take the couch.” Bucky said, his tone somewhere between desperate and laughing. The younger man huffed, but eventually, allowed. 

“Listen if Sarah asks, say I had nothing to do with this.” Sam warned, and Bucky grinned. “Fair enough.” Sam shook his head, leaving to go grab some blankets that may or not be from his room, because why would he care where the blankets came from, and why would Bucky? Why is it so weird that it came from Sam’s room? Because it’s not, obviously. 

~~~~~~~~~

“Your boy takin’ the couch?” Sarah asked as she passed in the hall. Sam rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It was his idea.” Sam said defensively. Sarah smirked, and noticed what room her brother was about to turn into. 

“You have two blankets in that room. I know. I cleaned it. I organized it. You were about to give them to him, weren’t ya?” Sarah questioned, and Sam couldn’t roll his eyes any more than he already was. “I was gonna give him one, because we already have one downstairs. And, calm down with the ‘your boy’ comments, alright? It’s getting ridiculous.” 

Sarah snickered, shaking her head in what seemed like disbelief. “Fine, fine.” Sarah paused, her face softening, “You look happy. Happier.” Sam couldn’t help but smile. “I know.” 

“Boy, you are whipped.” Sarah muttered. Sam rolled his eyes, for at least the 10th time today. God, Sarah was gonna be the death of him.

~~~~~~~

“Here.” Sam said simply, tossing Bucky the blanket he deemed fit. The older man smiled gratefully. The sun had perfectly set now, some twinkling stars hung in the sky in place of colourful hues. In place of the bright sun, the steel coloured moonlight glows in the sky. 

“Thanks. But I don’t-”

“I know you do. You run cold.” 

The smile on Bucky’s face was still there, more sentimental than grateful. Maybe it was because he remembered all the days he would complain to Sam that their apartment was too cold, and that they should move. Sam would always shake his head, telling him that when he wasn’t an international fugitive, they could go house hunting. Or maybe he remembered all the times he’d call Sam warm when he woke up from a nightmare. Or when they got the first snowfall. Or when their AC was broken, so everything was far colder than normal. Or when they sat on the couch, binging movies, and Bucky would stick his feet underneath Sam’s legs. 

Maybe it was all of those. Because those are all the memories Sam could think of, as Bucky smiled at him like that. 

“Well, goodnight Sam.”

Sam smiled, warm as always, it made Bucky melt under his gaze. “Night, Bucky.”

~~~~~~~

This had been the routine for the entirety of Bucky’s stay. Boat, argue, eat, boat, argue, eat, argue. You get the idea. Which is thrown off completely when Sam and Bucky are mid argument, and AJ comes up to Bucky, a shy look on his face, and a far more eager Cass behind him. “We wanted to know about the arm.” Cass said, quieter than Bucky had thought he would be.

“Boys, he’s not-”

Bucky shot Sam a what are you doing, I got this look, and Sam backed off. Bucky knelt down to the boys’ level, and started showing them the arm. “Can you feel things on the arm?” AJ asked, much quieter than Cass. 

“Kind of. I can, but it feels different from my other arm.”

“Can you take it off?” The way Cass said it made Bucky think that he had been wondering it ever since he saw it. 

“Yeah, the people who made it, the Wakandans, actually have a way of dismantling it. But I can just take it off normally.” Bucky paused before adding, “Wanna see?” 

The boys nodded their heads, eyes wide. Bucky smiled at them warmly and stood up, backing away from them by a foot and a bit. The arm clicked out with a whir and a hiss. 

Bucky watched as their faces lit up with awe, and he couldn’t help but smile a bit wider. “Do you take it off a lot?” AJ asked next, and it almost sounded as if they rehearsed who would ask what and when.

“Sometimes, mainly when I’m sleeping. Kinda uncomfortable with a piece of metal digging into your side.” The boys giggled, and Bucky thought he might cry. They were actually interested in his arm, they weren’t scared away by it. They wanted to know how it worked. They saw it as a cool part of him. Not a vessel of violence. 

Bucky stood a bit farther and put the arm back in its place. The arm swung quickly, and they looked like they had seen a miracle. Bucky grinned at them and knelt down again. 

“Woah.”

“Yeah, woah.”

Bucky chuckled. “I guess it is pretty cool.” He was too wrapped up in the moment to see Sam leaning against a railing, watching the exchange. His lips were formed in a small smile, his eyes looked like cartoon hearts should have replaced his pupils.

Oh no he’s good with kids.

“He’s good with kids.” Sarah had appeared beside him out of absolutely nowhere, elbowing his side lightly. Sam couldn’t pry his eyes off of Bucky and his nephews, the way Bucky looked so gentle, so natural with kids. 

“I know.” Sam breathed out, his stomachs doing flips. God, he had fallen hard. He had a million reasons to fall for Bucky, and this was just one more. He heard Sarah’s breathy laugh from beside him. “What?”

“Oh honey.” Sarah tutted, causing Sam to roll his eyes. “You are so gone for that man. Look at you, fallin’ for another white boy.” Sam looked down sheepishly, a shy smile spreading over his lips despite himself. 

“How strong is the arm?” Sam heard AJ ask, and watched as a smile spread over Bucky’s lips. 

“It’s pretty strong. I keep trying’ to lift your uncle Sam up with one hand, but he won’t let me.”

“I can hear you.” Sam shouted, and Bucky whipped his head around, unveiling the grin in full view. Sam couldn’t stop himself, he grinned back. If only they could stay like this forever. Stay in Delacroix, and never leave. Never ever leave. The shield could be an accessory on the wall, and everything could be simple. He deserved the dream world Bucky promised. It was the least he could get. 

~~~~~~~

“The boys really like the arm.” Bucky hadn’t brought it up since it happened, which was an hour ago. When the two curious kids ran off for lunch, Bucky just smiled at Sam. And that was that. Until now, of course, as they were doing touch ups. 

“The boys really like you .” Sam pointed out, a teasing yet warm smile on his face. Bucky smiled shyly, nodding his head. “Yeah, yeah, I guess.” Bucky mumbled.

Sam paused what he was doing and made his way over to Bucky, who was sitting across from him on the boat. “You should come around here more often.” Sam suggested, his face genuine. Bucky smiled a bit wider.  “I mean…” Sam couldn’t say it. He too stubborn to say it. He couldn’t admit to Bucky he missed him. Technically, he already had, but this was different. 

“I mean, it’s nice having you around.” Sam finished, and Bucky smiled wider than he had in a long time. A blush crept onto his cheeks, and he felt his heart stutter. He bowed his head, not making eye contact with Sam.

“Uh, thanks. Maybe I will. And, uh, maybe we could put a pause on the separate vacations?”

Sam chuckled, nodding his head. “And it looks like we will be seein’ each other again.”

“Yeah, considering the condition of this boat.” Bucky joked, and Sam laughed softly. They were finally back to normal. Everything was looking finally okay.

Chapter Text

In had been the last night of Bucky’s stay when he woke up suddenly. He hadn’t had a nightmare, but he woke up to a shout either way. The combination of him being a light sleeper and his enhanced hearing, almost everything woke him up. Bucky didn’t think to wander up the stairs and check on Sam, because he knew it was Sam. He knew better than to do that. He knew better than to try and approach Sam when he was vulnerable. He always let Sam come to him, and if he wouldn’t let himself do that, Bucky would step in. This didn’t seem to be one of those times. Hopefully. 

Soon enough, Sam padded down the stairs, sniffling softly. Bucky pretended to be asleep, to see where Sam went. To see if Sam came to him like he used to. He heard the fridge upon, a clanging of glass, water pouring steady. More clanging. A sniffle. Another. A sob.

A heartbreaking, broken sob. Bucky swung his legs over the side of the couch, balling up the blanket and storing it under his arm. Tentivally, he made his way into the kitchen. The sobs, as quiet as Sam tried to make them, were getting louder. “Sammy.” Bucky’s voice was loud enough for a Sam to look up from the ground, and met Bucky’s eye.

“Hey.” Sam said weakly, and Bucky could see the pain in Sam’s face, like it was cracking and cracking until something could finally break free. 

Without another word, Bucky walked up to Sam, wiping the tears from the shorter man’s eyes. Still not speaking, wrapped his arms around Sam, enveloping him in a hug. Sam buried his head in the crook of Bucky’s neck, tears falling and falling. 

“It hurts. Everything hurts. Why can’t it stop hurting?” 

Every word pains Bucky’s heart a bit more, and all he could do was hug Sam tighter, like he’d never let go. Probably because he wouldn’t. Not again.  “I know Sammy, I know, I got you.” Bucky murmured over and over again. 

I got you

I got you

I got you

Minutes later, maybe hours later, neither of them know, the tears subside, and Sam unravels himself from Bucky. Well, not exactly. Bucky’s hands fall to Sam’s hips, and Sam never backed away. Small tears still fell from Sam’s eyes, and from it being so early, in such a devastatingly familiar situation, Bucky pressed two short kisses to Sam’s cheek. He did it all the time, after Sam had a nightmare. This was different. This was so different. Suddenly they were both awake and alert, and Sam looked like he regretted coming to get a glass of water. Bucky had that same feeling too. 

“I- I’m-” Bucky stuttered out, unsure of how to handle this.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have-” They both weren’t really sure what to say, what to apologize for. They just knew that the air felt a bit colder when Bucky dropped his hands, and Sam stepped away from Bucky. They knew they felt colder. 

“I should go back upstairs.” Bucky’s eyes widened, and he felt a flush of regret. 

“No, Sam, no, why are you- what are you-” Given the fact that Bucky was unable to form a proper sentence, this night is about to become a lot longer. “Don’t be sorry.”

“I just, I shouldn’t have-”

“I shouldn’t have.” Bucky interrupted. 

“No, no, I should’ve stayed-”

“Sam, we both know that isn’t good for you. I overstepped, I wasn’t thinking.” 

“I- whatever, we can both blame ourselves if you want, just…” Sam sighed. “Get some sleep, Buck.”

“Wait.” Bucky didn’t want Sam to leave. Didn’t think it was smart for Sam to leave. “Just… stay, maybe?” Bucky suggested, nay, pleaded. 

Sam wanted to stay. He wanted nothing more than to become wrapped up in Bucky’s arms again. “Yeah, alright. I’ll stay. But I ain’t sleeping on the floor. And neither are you.” Sam said, stubborn as ever. Bucky sighed, nodding his head. 

They both trudge into the living room wordlessly, then two of them trying to figure out how to make this work in their heads. It didn’t work. A lingering sense of what they used to be; used to have, washed through them both. It was like a dance, desperately trying not to expose any old wounds. But the wounds seemed to have closed. So maybe, the dance was just trying to cut deeper. Or maybe, they’re just paranoid, because the way they’e looked at each other hasn’t changed since day 1. No matter how much of the others blood is on their hands, the way they look at each other will never change. You can’t wipe that away with a cloth.

“How do you wanna do this?” Sam questioned, and, yeah, Bucky had not thought this through.

“Uh, you take the couch.”

“No.”

“Oh my god, seriously? This again?” Bucky sighed dramatically, and a small smile crept onto Sam’s lips. 

“Do you wanna just watch a movie?” Sam suggested, and Bucky’s lips quirked up. 

“Sure. Don’t have anything better to do.”

“Other than, you know, sleep.” Bucky scoffed at Sam.

“Sleep is for the weak, and I am immortal. We’re watching a movie.” Sam laughed softly, a wide grin spreading over his lips. It made Bucky smile, his real smile, the one that makes his eyes crinkle. 

They both plop down on the couch, and Sam put on Harry Potter : The Philosopher Stone . He watched as Bucky’s eyes went wide in awe, and as he turned to face Sam. “There are movies?” Bucky questioned slowly, and if anything, Sam’s grin got wider. He nodded slowly, and in one very swift moment, Bucky grabbed a pillow from beside him and wacked Sam in the arm. “Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was comically soft, given the fact he had just hit Sam in the arm with a pillow. 

“I thought you knew.” Sam said with a shrug, but that wasn’t enough for Bucky. 

“Traitor.” Bucky mumbled, and Sam rolled his eyes, pressing play.

~~~~~~~~

Sam had fallen asleep on Bucky’s shoulder, and Bucky had been fighting off sleep since the 45 minute mark. They were now 1 hour and 17 minutes in. Slowly, Bucky laid down, and Sam fell with him. Bucky had slung an arm over Sam and closed his eyes. He was too out of it to realize this is how he and Sam would wake up in the morning, so he just brought a blanket over the two of them, and fell into a peaceful sleep. 

What a night.

~~~~~~~

Sam woke up slowly, feeling heavy with sleep. He didn’t realize exactly where he was, his mind slow at the early hour. Once he registered arms loosely wrapped around his waist, he realized what had happened. He had fallen asleep on Bucky during the movie. Great. This was so great. This is exactly what they had needed. Carefully, he got up, making sure not to wake Bucky up. He didn’t know how he would react if he woke up alone, unaware of where Sam had gone. So, he dug around a bit for a piece of paper, quiet as ever. 

He found a pad of paper and scribbled: I’ll be on the boat, Potterhead

To mess with him, because Sam was so nice, he grabbed a magnet and stuck the message on his metal arm. It probably didn’t even stick, but it’s the thought that counts.

~~~~~~~~

Sam realized how much he missed waking up next to Bucky that morning, as he replayed the feeling in his mind. He was warm, he was comforted, he was safe. Sam must’ve forgotten what that felt like, but he never thought he would. Maybe that’s why Sam didn’t get good night sleep recently. Because for so long he had Bucky next to him, warm and safe, and instead he had the cold air. 

His thoughts were interrupted as Bucky came down below deck where Sam was, and they got back into the swing of things; boat fixing wise anyway.

~~~~~~~~

“Vibranium isn’t magnetic, at least not to your sisters fridge magnets, dumbass .” Bucky muttered as they worked on the boat, the early sunrise framing them like something you’d see in a movie. Sam threw his head back laughing, almost hitting his head. 

“Still worth it.” Sam retorted, and Bucky almost pushed him into the water. Even as Sam’s laughter died down, a grin stayed on his lips almost permanently. 

~~~~~~~~

Sam watched as Bucky left, replaying what had just happened in his mind. Bucky finally understood, he came through. He should’ve done it a long time ago, definitely, but, they were better. They could feel the tension ease away from them, and it was a welcome feeling. Sam knew now that Bucky would stay by Sam’s side, no doubt about it. Sam didn’t miss the way Bucky smiled at him, they way he held their hands together a beat too long. They way he said partners. Sam knew Bucky was back. He was here to support him, to give him a shoulder, to watch his six. He missed him. Sam really missed him. 

And now, maybe, finally, he had him back. The lies were something in the past. Empty promises were just roadblocks in the way of hearing the true whisper of forever that was being drowned out by cries of lies.

There were a million different things that Sam wanted to say, but didn’t. I love you . I never stopped loving you . Please, never leave me. Never let go. Say forever and mean it. Hold me forever. Hold me as the sunrises, and as the sunsets. Dusk till dawn. Please. Say you’ll be there, forever and ever. Look at me like you always have. Look at me like you did when it was simpler. Look at me like you are right now, and do it for the rest of our lives . Love me like you’ve done it all your life. Love me until the stars stop shining, until the sun stops rising, until your eyes stop shining. Maybe Bucky knew that, maybe he can still read him, after all this time. Like he always had. 

No matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t seem to stay apart. Maybe Bucky’s arm was magnetic. 

Chapter Text

“So is Bucky our uncle, Sam?” Bucky left 3 days ago. And this question haven’t come up. So the fact that Sam chocked on his pancakes when Cass asked the question was pretty reasonable. Sarah was no help, she was quietly laughing into her orange juice. Sam realized he was alone in this conversation. Well, as soon as he could properly eat this pancake. 

“Uh, what?” Sam asked, his eyes going from Cass to Sarah. He could answer this two ways. One way, the safer way, is to answer it maturely, how an adult would. The way Sam was leaving towards was more of what he was feeling. Panic and confusion.

“I mean- what?” Sam repeated. 

“Well, it’s just that, he seemed to really like us.”

“And you.” AJ added, eager to add to the conversation. Sam sighed, realizing there was no way out of this, and no help from his delightful sister.

“So, okay, yes, um, me and Bucky are friends, but he’s not your uncle.”

They almost looked surprised, or disappointed, Sam couldn’t tell. “It seemed like you guys really liked each other, is all we’re saying.” It seemed that Cass was not done with the conversation, but Sarah was done stifling her laughter. She ended up leaving the table. 

“Your mother finds this very amusing.” Sam grumbled, loud enough for the two boys to hear and laugh at. What a fantastic way to start the day.

~~~~~~~~~

Sam: I hate you

Buck: ouch

Sam: the kids think you’re their uncle 

Buck: oh?

Sam: yeah

Buck: I’ll swing by tomorrow

Sam: what?

Buck: I’m coming by tomorrow, get your couch ready

“Oh god what have I started?” Sam muttered. It was yesterday when Cass and AJ thought Bucky was their uncle, and Sam was working with Torres on finding Karli the rest of the day. But Sam was home, finally, and he thought it’d be funny to see Bucky’s reaction. He did not anticipate Bucky inviting himself over.

Buck: that okay, yeah?

Sam shook his head. Dear god Bucky. Did he forget their last interaction? Why wouldn’t it be?

Sam: course it is Buck

Good god, Sam was so gone.

“Hey, Sar?” Sam called out from his makeshift office, and Sarah poked her head in the doorway.

“Yeah?”

“Guess who’s coming back for another visit.” Sam said with faux enthusiasm. Sarah rolled her eyes, and for a second, Sam thought she was upset.

“Just get married already, dear lord.”

~~~~~~~

“Hey, Buck.” Sam greeted with a wave at the front door, the net day around 11:30 in the morning Bucky grinned at him, his eyes crinkling up, and he waved back. “You didn’t have to come back here, you know.” Sam added, and the older man waved him off. 

“Nah, if the boys are missing their favourite uncle-”

“Don’t even.” Sam said sharply, and Bucky chuckled. “You may have a metal arm, but I can cook, and I’m Captain America.” The words took a minute to set in for Sam, but Bucky’s face lit up even more, if it was even possible. He walked up the steps of the porch, clapping Sam on the shoulder.

“I guess you got a point, Cap. Now, if you claim you can cook, that’d be delightful, because I’m starvin’.” Bucky said, grinning ear to ear at Sam. He couldn’t help but grin back at him, and led him back inside. 

“Boys! Bucky’s back!” Sam called out, and few seconds later, they came tumbling down the stairs. A grin spread across the two kids faces, and across Bucky’s face. 

“Bucky!” They both shouted at the same time, and raced towards Bucky, who looked like he was about to cry from happiness. “Uncle Sam, why didn’t you tell us?” Cass questioned, him and AJ wearing matching grins. 

“Thought it should be a surprise.” Sam said nonchalant with a shrug. Without warning, they both crashed into the two men. 

“You both are the best.” AJ announced against Sam’s leg. Bucky looked up at Sam with look that Sam’s never seen before, and the younger man didn’t miss the tears that threaten to spill. He smiled at Bucky, and he caught the way Bucky’s vibranium arm was wrapped around Cass’ back. Oh dear god, Sam was so screwed.

~~~~~~~

“What the hell do you mean ‘ruin it’? Samuel Thomas Wilson, you are an idiot.” Sarah knocked him in the shoulders, as they sat on Sarah’s porch. Sam rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

“I’m just saying, a lot of things have happened since we were together. And I just… I’ve lost him so many times, I don’t wanna lose him again.”

“Sam, I get that, believe me, but look at him. Look at him .” Sam was looking at him. Despite being in a conversation with Sarah for the past 5 minutes, he hadn’t taken his eyes off of Bucky. Bucky, who was letting his two nephews tackle him to the ground, and was bending over as if he was in pain, making the boys cheer and laugh. Yeah, he was looking at Bucky alright. “Sam, you haven’t looked my way this entire conversation, I know you know he isn’t leaving anytime soon. He loves my boys, they adore him. C’mon Sam, tell him .”

Sam sighed. He knows she's right. He knows it. But he can’t bring himself to do it. Everything is so fragile between them right now, and he doesn’t want to ruin it. He wanted to keep it like this. Easy and simple and real. 

“I just…” Sam sighed. What was he supposed to say? Sam finally turned to Sarah. “We just…. we fell in love at the wrong time. That was never supposed to happen. I was supposed to find him and come back home. Or I was never supposed to find him and come right back home. I wasn’t supposed to fall in love.”

“But look what happened because you did.” Sarah said simply, gesturing to Bucky swinging Cass and AJ around on his vibranium arm. Sam smiled softly. She was right. God, she was so right. What if they didn’t fall in love at the wrong time? What if they didn’t find each other at the wrong time? What if they didn’t look into each other's eyes and find the answers but become blinded to their scars? What if they didn’t hold each other sunset to sunrise, when the only warmth they could find was in each other arms? What if Bucky never told him to stay? What if Sam never stayed? What if, what if, what if?

“Maybe it wasn’t supposed to happen, maybe it was never supposed to be written in the stars, but Sam, it happened. I’ve never seen someone look at you like that, I’ve never seen you look at someone like that.”

“You need to stop being right.” Sam quipped, and Sarah chuckled. 

“I know, right?” Sarah paused as Bucky’s loud, energetic, true laughter erupted from where he and the boys were. Sam hadn’t heard that for a long, long time. Sam’s face split into a giant grin. Bucky was goddamn beautiful . He was smile was the brightest thing he’d ever seen his laugh was the best sound he’d ever heard. That never changed. He had sweat dripping down his face, and the two boys had taken advantage of his outburst of laughter to pin him to the ground. Bucky pretended to struggle against them. 

“Ugh, you’ve wounded me boys, you’ve wounded me!” Bucky shouted, and Sam knew for a fact he was in love. After everything that happened, he was a bit unsure, but good God, he was done for.

“I’m gonna go get the house cleaned up, get your boy, Sammy.” Sarah said, and Sam heard the door close a few moments later. Sam locked eyes with Bucky, and Bucky nodded for him to come over. 

“Uncle Sam, Uncle Sam, we got him pinned!” AJ shouted.

“I see that. Looks like he got him pretty good.”

“They’re pretty strong.” Bucky added, never breaking eye contact with Sam.

“I know, clearly your metal arm isn’t as strong as you’re playing it up to be.” Sam joked, a smirk on his face now. 

“Put it to the test.” Cass suggested. AJ got visibly more excitable, and he nodded his head.

“Yeah, Uncle Sam! Maybe Uncle Bucky should pick you up.” If Sarah was outside, she might just fall over laughing. Bucky, the idiot, god he was annoying, he was smirking at Sam, and Sam's smirk had fallen. The boys had stepped away, looking at Sam expectantly. Sam shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Alright, let's do this Barnes.” Sam said, seemingly calm.

Bucky pulled himself up, and a smirk still on his face. “So how do you wanna do this?” Sam muttered. Bucky had an exact idea of how. Without warning, Bucky looped an arm around Sam’s legs, holding him close to him. On instinct, Sam wrapped his legs around Bucky.

Sam gasped, and stared at Bucky wide eyed. Bucky still had a cocky smirk on his face. “You’re so, so stupid.” Sam breathed out, flustered. Bucky laughed softly, and Sam thought he was about to die. Sam decided he was going to mess with him, too. 

They were close. They were so close. Sam smirked at him, trying desperately to think of a quip to say to Bucky quickly. “You’re adorable when you’re playing with them, by the way.” And, Sam was almost dropped at that point. Bucky looked like a deer in headlights. It was glorious. 

“Uh, I- uh.” Bucky was unwell. He suddenly became quite aware of how Sam was looking at him, how close Sam was to him. He was quite aware of what was happening and where they were. And that smirk on Sam’s face that almost made Bucky faint. He was slowly getting lost in the dark brown eyes. He was getting lost in the look Sam was giving him. He was in love. He was so very in love. Oh dear god, Bucky was gonna lose it. Sam was laughing, and Bucky felt like he was in heaven and equally felt like he was going to die. 

The boys were on the ground laughing, and Sam swore he could hear Sarah laughing in the background. But he was too caught up in the look Bucky had on his face to care. Slowly, Bucky set him down. 

“You win, Barnes. The arms pretty strong.” Bucky still couldn’t form words properly, so he just nodded. Sam grinned, even though he felt like he was about to melt from what had just happened. Thank god Sam had told Bucky about the uncle situation.

~~~~~~

Bucky had left before Sam woke up. Before any of them had woken up. Sam woke up to a text and note on his door because Bucky was equally 14 and 84 at the exact same time. Sam wasn’t bothered by it, because he knew he had to work with Torres looking for Karli.

What he was up in arms about was the look Sarah was giving him. “Don’t even with me, Sar. Yes, I’m down bad, shut it.”

She was laughing now, plating some eggs for the two kids. “You know, Uncle Sam, you and Bucky seem like a really good team.” Cass said, his smile big. Sam looked down to hide his bashful smile. 

“Yeah! Is he gonna be your partner when you’re Captain America?”

“I hope so, that’d be really cool!”

“What would his name be?”

“Imagine if you guys do the really cool photos the Avengers did?”

“That’d be so cool!”

“When are you doing your first mission as Cap, Uncle Sam?”

“Because, like, not to sound like Mom tells us not to, but we could totally brag about it at school.” 

“And, also, you’re Captain America, end of point.”

Sam smiled at Sarah, who just shrugged. Then, he turned to the two kids. “I have no clue. Also, I have no idea what your Mom is talking about, I can be used as a bragging right, please do.” The boys laughed, and Sarah was looking at him pointedly, amused.

Chapter Text

“This used to be a nice apartment, you know.” Sam said as he walked into his old apartment. Bucky rolled his eyes, peeling his jacket off. 

“I realize that.” Bucky retorted with a glare.

“That your nest?” Sam questioned playfully, pointing at the bundle of blankets in the living room. 

“If you keep this up, then you’ll be sleeping there. Kinda fitting, you know, with the wings and stuff.” Bucky quipped back, his face serious, but Sam knew he was biting back a smile. After Sam took care of the whole Flagsmasher mess, he was exhausted. So, Bucky being Bucky (meaning: Bucky being so goddamn in love with Sam that he can barely function) he let Sam stay in his apartment instead of a hotel, or have him fly back to Delacroix. Slowly, Bucky started to regret this decision.

“Funny.” Sam said, his tone flat. Bucky snickered as he poured two glasses of water. Wordlessly, he handed it to Sam, who nodded in thanks. He drank it in one go, feeling the water cool his burning lungs. Sam sighed as he set the glass down, and Bucky stared at him, worried. 

“You look tired. Take the b- actually, hold on, I’ll be right back.” Sam was about to protest, but Bucky zipped down the hall before he could get a word out. Sam didn’t even wanna know. 

~~~~~~

Sam didn’t need to know that Bucky was petty and threw stuff in boxes, that were thrown around the room haphazardly. He didn’t to know that he never used this room after Sam left. 

“Okay, I have to ask.” Bucky turned around to the doorway, finding the owner of the voice, Sam, who had taken off the suit, only wearing the black t-shirt and shorts he wears underneath. “What.” Sam added, gesturing to the room filled with boxes, that were filled with memories of him. Bucky would respond, if he wasn’t so busy staring at Sam. He was bathed in the moonlight, looking like something out of a dream. His eyes sparkled in the light, brown eyes looking like stars. Dark skin that was probably coated in sweat didn’t stop the fact that it looked as if it was glowing. 

“Buck?” 

“Huh?” Bucky snapped out of his daze and refocused. Sam smirked, shaking his head as he walked into the room. 

“Anyway, I was going to tell you that you can take the bed, and I’ll take the nest.” Yeah, no, Bucky was not settling for that.

“Um, no.” Bucky retorted simply, and Sam rolled his eyes.

“Oh for the love of god.” Sam muttered before adding, “Don’t make this difficult, alright?” 

Bucky rolled his eyes this time. “You take the bed, you’re obviously tired, it’s fine, it's not like I’ve slept in it much.”

“Okay, still, that’s unreasonable.” Sam wasn’t letting this go easy, and Bucky planned to make it as simple as he could. 

“You really gonna make me do this? Okay.” Bucky mumbled, shaking his head, “you take the bed, I take the bed, nothing we haven’t done before.” Actually, the situations could not be more different. And Bucky knew that, his heart was beating 1000 beats a minute, he knows. But, if Sam is about to be stubborn, then so be it. 

Sam stared at him with wide eyes and nodded his head slowly, as if trying to take in what Bucky just said. “Okay.” He said slowly, and Bucky knew this was a horrible idea. 

~~~~~~~

They had both showered and Bucky tossed Sam a pair of pyjamas (aka two articles of clothing that probably belong to Sam in the first place), and not to mention Bucky staring at Sam for a good 5 minutes after he got out of the shower. Professional, always staying professional. Anyway, point is that Sam was laying in a bed he hasn’t seen in months, and it’s clearly never seen the daylight for the months he was gone. Bucky was doing god knows what so Sam was left alone, staring at the ceiling with his thoughts. 

He could’ve saved Karli, he could’ve helped her. He could’ve helped them all, helped them fight for what they believed in. He could’ve done it. But she died in his arms instead, and with it, her movement died. Sam could’ve saved her, but he didn’t. He let Sharon take the shot, he could’ve stopped her, but he didn’t. He should’ve, but he didn’t. He snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the door open and close. Bucky, in sweatpants that Sam 70 percent sure were his, and laid down beside Sam.

“I couldn’t save her.” Sam muttered, not even looking at Bucky. 

“Sam, she was beyond saving.”

“I could’ve, though, but Sharon shot her. I could’ve at least stopped that. I could’ve-” Sam’s word were cut off by something that sounded like a cross between a gasp and a sob. Slowly, Bucky laced his fingers through Sam’s, squeezing his hand gently.

“There was nothing you could’ve done. It wasn’t your fault. I know that, you know that, she knew that.”

“She wasn’t a villain. She wanted to do good, she just didn’t know how.”

“I know, Sammy, I know.” Bucky did know, Bucky had watched as Sam tried to sympathize with her, tried to help her, and he could tell she meant good. But she pushed away Sam’s help. Reminded him of someone. Tears were welling in Sam’s eyes, and he tried to wipe them away before everything escalated. He’s exhausted, he just wanted to rest. But he can’t rest knowing her blood was on his hand. He tried to blink them away, to push them away for another time. 

But his mind wasn’t feeling that. Because if she reminded him of anyone, she reminded him of Riley. They both had a fiery spirit, a firecracker attitude, and they didn’t like when people got in their way. Sam had a soft spot for both of them. Sam just wanted to help them both, and he failed both times. He couldn’t catch Riley, the last thing he saw of him were his sharp blue eyes, and he lifted Karli into the air, as her eyes shut for the last time. Poetic, isn’t it.

Sam was overwhelmed, the room was spinning, his grip on Bucky’s hand had tightened. Which was what worried Bucky. “Sam? Sam, talk to me.” Bucky noticed Sam’s fast breath, the tears streaming down his face, no matter how much Sam tried to keep them at bay. 

“She- she was j-just like Riley, Buck, she w-was just-” Bucky sat up, pulling Sam up with him.

“Hey Sam, look at me, look at me.” Bucky told him, grabbing both of his hands, wiping the tears away. 

“I failed them both.” Sam murmured, gasping for breath as more sobs wracked his body. Was there nothing he could do? Couldn’t Sam have radioed someone to help Riley? Couldn’t Sam have stopped Sharon? Couldn’t Sam have talked to her beforehand? He could’ve. But he failed them both. He let only watched Riley fall, and he could only carry Karli up, her heart stopped to halt.

“No, you didn’t Sam, you know that. I know that, they know that.”

“Karlis last words were ‘I’m sorry’. She had nothing to be sorry for, Buck, she was a good kid she just needed-” Sam gasped for breath, tears falling freely. “She just needed help. Help I was supposed to give her but couldn’t.” 

“And that's not your fault. Sam, hey, Sam.” Sam still didn’t meet his eye. He hadn’t looked him in the eye for the conversation. “Sammy.” Gently, he angled Sam to look at him. “I know it wasn’t fair that she died, it wasn’t fair that Riley fell either, but Sam, it wasn’t your fault. I know it's hard, but believe me, it wasn’t your fault. They know that. I know that. You know that. It’s just easier to blame yourself than recognize that life is unfair. Because life isn’t supposed to be unfair, it's supposed to be easy, but it isn’t. You know that better than anyone I’ve met. I also know you know it’ll get easier. Because it did.”

“You’re too wise, must be the old age.” Sam quipped, offering Bucky the smallest of smiles. Bucky flat out grinned, and nodded.

“Must be. C’mon, get some rest.” Bucky suggested, and Sam nodded, but tears were still falling from his eyes. 

“Alright, alright.”

~~~~~~~~

“No, no, and no.” Sam said, pointing at the motorcycle. Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. He had all his clothes (and stuff he stole from Sam, but that’s unimportant) stuffed into a backpack on his back, and Bucky might as well have put everything he has in a ziplock bag. But Sam knew for a fact he was not getting on the death mobile. 

“C’mon, it’ll be fine.” Bucky said, rolling his eyes. 

“What about the suit, and the shield?” Sam tried, but Bucky shook his head. 

“I took this thing with the suit, and the shield shouldn’t be too much of a bother.”

“You took that thing while carrying this thing?” Sam's eyes were wide with horror as he pointed at the motorcycle, then the suit under his arms. Bucky scoffed. 

“It’s fine. Don’t you trust me?”

Sam scowled at him. “It’s not you I don’t trust, it’s that .”

“C’mon, I promise, it’ll be fine.”

Sam realized there was no way around this. With a sigh, he nodded his head, gripping the suit tighter. “Alright, where’s it gonna go?”

Bucky grinned, and took the shield and suit from Sam. Somehow, Bucky got the shield hooked on to the back of the motorcycle, and the suit (taken out of the case) was folded and ‘gently’ shoved into a compartment. 

“Ready?”

“No, but fine.” Sam grumbled, watching as Bucky mounted the bike. Slowly, he did the same, a little less hesitant to wrap his arms around Bucky this time. Sam doesn’t know what happened, but they were less afraid to be close, close like they used to be. Maybe it was rolling down a hill together, couples therapy perhaps, or how over the past two weeks, Sam started seeing Bucky’s smile a bit more every day. Maybe it was all of those things.

~~~~~~~

Sam did not know how Bucky enjoyed this, speeding through the air in the pitch black with all of your sense sent into overdrive. Ok, so Sam knows exactly how Bucky enjoyed this, because it feels like flying. But still, Bucky’s made a few turns Sam isn’t overly thrilled with. 

“You okay? You wanna stop somewhere? We’ve been on the road for like, 16 hours now.” Bucky questioned as the came to a stop at a red light. 

“No, no I’m-” Sam’s word were cut off by a yawn Sam so desperately tried to stop. He heard Bucky chuckle, and rolled his eyes. “I’m fine.” Sam concluded.

“We can stop, you know. There’s a hotel about 10 minutes away.” Sam considered this for a second, and the idea was more appealing than not as he felt his eyelids get heavy.

“Yeah, yeah alright.” Sam agreed finally, and leaned forward, just a bit, resting his head on Bucky’s shoulder. The light changed green, and Sam could feel himself dozing off.

~~~~~~

“You are not a morning person.” For that comment, Sam got a paper coffee cup thrown at his head. If anything, Bucky was just proving Sam’s point even more, but Sam did not verbalize these thoughts, as he did not want hot coffee poured down his back. 

“We should get going, we have at least 5 hours left to go.” Bucky announced, his voice heavy with sleep and annoyance.

“Yeah, nice job taking a goddamn motorcycle from New York to Louisiana. Real good choice,”

“Oh my god, are you done?”

“The flight was 2 hours. 2 hours.” Sam held up two fingers to prove his point. “But, no, you and your damn can-do attitude were determined to drive 21 hours.” Bucky rolled his eyes at Sam, and threw his leather jacket over his shoulders. 

“C’mon, me and my can-do attitude are leaving.”

~~~~~~~~

“Why did I agree to this?” Sam grumbled at the 4 hour mark, causing Bucky to roll his eyes. 

“Because you like me and my can-do attitude.”

“Are you done with that? Seriously, get a new joke.”

“I could push you off this thing, you know.” 

Sam made his hold on Bucky even tighter, smiling widely. “But you won’t.” Bucky sighed.

“Unfortunately, you are correct.” Bucky huffed, and tried to hide the smile in his voice, the tingling feeling he got near the spot Sam had his arms wrapped around. 

~~~~~~~

“Well, you’re back.” Sarah said as she watched a motorcycle pull into her driveway. Sam smiled at her, shrugging. 

“You sound surprised. You really shouldn’t be.” Sam joked, grabbing the shield and the suit that somehow didn’t fall off. 

“You exhaust me.” Sarah muttered, opening the door for Sam and Bucky to pass through. “Why do you put up with him?” Sarah mumbled to Bucky, causing him to shrug.

“I honestly don’t know.” And that got him hit in the with paper plate.

“Karma, for hitting me with a paper cup.” Sam called out as he made his way through the house.

“Child.” Bucky muttered with an eye roll, walking into the house. Sarah had a pained, exasperated smile on her face.

“Child ren .” Sarah muttered to herself, and walked back into her house. This is gonna be interesting.

~~~~~~~~

The morning before Sam and Bucky got there, Sarah had already orchestrated a cookout. The two had found this out just now, as Sarah was explaining when this would take place. 4 days. Bucky rushed Sam into the clearing of trees after the explanation. 

“I can leave-” Bucky’s words were cut off by a roll of newspaper being thrown at his head. “For the love of god, stop throwing things at me.” Bucky said, glaring at Sam. Sam just shrugged.

“I only throw things at you when you’re being stupid. Because I know you don’t wanna leave. Buck, the first two hours you were here you met half this town. You wanna stay.” Sam retorted, a look in his eye that makes Bucky think he’s not the only who wants him to stay. So, as any person who doesn’t think before they speak, he asked,

“Do you want me to stay?” 

Sam froze. Yeah, yeah he did. He wanted nothing more than for Bucky to stay. He’s always wanted that. But he can’t say that. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he’s sure Bucky remembered the day Sam invited him to Delacroix. Where the smell of the water and the sound of water sloshing against the docks made him remember his home, the home he never though he’d got back to. Where the air was colder, and the streets were busier, and his eyes cried less tears. But he’s here. And Bucky’s here. 

“If you want to. The boys love you, Sarah appreciates the help, and the people around here-”

“That’s not what I’m asking.” 

Sam swallowed the lump in his throat. Jesus Christ, Bucky needs to keep things simple.

“Sam, do you want me to stay?”

Yeah, yeah I really do. I wanna tell you that I love you, that I never stopped. That I’ve wanted you here since forever. That I love the way you fit in here so well. That I love the way you’re gentle and good with my nephews. That I love the way you make Sarah smile, lift the weight off her shoulders. That I love the way you make me feel whole. Make me feel like I belong, like I can get through this mess of a world because you’re right there. Remember when I said you make me feel like I’m flying? I’m not just flying, I’m floating above the clouds, floating to where no one can touch me, hurt me. And I’m with you. Because no matter what happens, I fear it’ll always be you.

“Yeah, I guess I do.” 

Bucky smiled, but tried to hide it with a fake cough. “I’m glad. But there's some stuff I gotta do first, I’ll be back in like 3 or 4 days.”

“Don’t tell me you’re taking the vessel of near-death experiences.”

“I won’t die, its a motorcycle.”

“Clearly you forgot how horrid your driving is.” Bucky scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I was gonna stick around for a bit longer today, but you know what, for that comment, I’m out.” Bucky said playfully, and Sam chuckled, his lips spread into a grin.

“Whatever, be back soon, yeah?” 

“For you? Always, Sammy.” Sam just about fell over.

~~~~~~~

Sam: hey, you on your way

Buck: yeah, whats up

Sam: how close

Buck: 20 minutes

Sam: oh so now you’re texting on your deathbed on wheels?

Buck: its a red light, dingus. And i pulled over, you think so little of me

Sam: yeah, yeah, i worry so much about you and your leather jacket. we forgot a cake

Sam: actually, scratch that. I dont want you dropping it on your serious injury vending machine with a steering wheel (which, by the way, I would like another steering wheel after that time you yanked mine from my car). Get here and take my car

Buck: are you done

Sam: probably not

Buck: fantastic. But yeah, i’ll get you your cake

Sam: great, thanks buck

~~~~~~~~~

“Oh, for the love of god.” Ok, so Bucky hadn’t wrecked Sam’s car, but he had dropped the cake about 4 times. It slid off the seat every 5 minutes. Bucky just left it on the floor, and that was clearly the worse decision he could make. With every quick turn, it went a bit of everywhere, and Bucky was about to throw it out the window. 

Alas, he pulled into the driveway and scooped up the cake with one hand, adjusting Sam’s sunglasses he found from the top compartment. He stepped out of the truck with a pep in his step, a grin on his face. The boys immediately rushed towards him. Bucky pretended to wrestle with them, faking a reaction to their fake punches.

“What took you so long?” Cass questioned, a giant smile on his face. Bucky grinned back and looked around at all the surrounding people. He found Sam in the crowd and grinned even wider. 

“Where is everyone?” He shouted, and Sam chuckled. Bucky set the cake down at the picnic table Sam occupied. Sam glanced down at the cake, and it looked like he was gonna say some stupid quip before he got pulled up to take a picture. Bucky smiled at the sight of it, barely taking his eyes off of Sam, until kids were pulling at the hem of his leather jacket.

Yeah, he wanted to stay.

~~~~~~~~

The party had calmed down a bit by now, but it didn’t look like it would be over for at least another hour. Sam watched as the sun just began to set down, the water glistening in bright hues of yellow and orange. During the time of Sam’s little getaway, Bucky sat down next to him, two beers in his hands.

“Beer?” Bucky asked simply, and Sam took it from Bucky’s hand without a word. They stayed silent for a long time, sipping the slightly warm beer and watching as the sun dipped lower and lower. Until Bucky spoke.

“Do you remember what you said to be on the docks in Bucharest? The first time, I mean.” Sam smiled softly, nodding his head. 

“I do. ‘Wanna take a trip up to Louisiana?’.”

“Yeah, yeah, and I said ‘maybe, one day.’”

“I said I’d take you up on that.” Sam recalled fondly, and Bucky chuckled. They both turned to look at each other for the first time in the conversation. There was something there, something they both so desperately wanted to see, wanted to have, but they couldn’t. Everything was too much, everything was chaotic, and busy. But, in fairness, wasn’t that what it was like when they first found each other? Nothing made sense, their lives had been turned upside down, and yet, they had each other. Maybe it’s different. Maybe there was one more thing weighing on Bucky, something he needed Sam to know.

“I know I apologized for the shield and Walker before, but I am really sorry about everything that happened. I shouldn’t have told you what to do, I should’ve kept my word. I’m sorry I messed everything up.”

“Thank you, Buck. I’m sorry things couldn’t be simpler.” Both of them knew what he meant by that. If everything was simpler, if everything was kinder, they could be back together. That was the plain truth. If Sam hadn’t just become Captain America, everything could’ve been different. There's a part of Sam that wants to ignore all of that, and fall back into Bucky’s arm, but he needed time to let the sting wear off. 

“Me too.” 

They were two pieces of the same broken heart, shattered by not just each other, but the world around them. They’d heal together, slowly. Life might not go back to normal any time soon, but they’ll get better soon. Bucky was staying. Sam was gonna let him stay. Sam was the first one to look away, but Bucky’s gaze never left. Slowly, he leaned his head on the shorter man’s shoulder. 

Sometimes even the biggest flames go out. Sometimes even the brightest star sink into the sky for morning to come. Sometimes forever is just a ruse to hide that nothing is forever. But, as they sat there together, all their history held with them, every kiss, every heartache, every soft sweet whisper, every hello, every goodbye, there was always a sense of forever. Lies and empty promises crumble, falling meaningless once you realize that the weight of forever and together is much easier to carry. Love isn’t easy, love is careless, love is powerful, love is intense, love is different, love is confusing. Love is the look in Bucky’s eyes as he looks at Sam. Love is feeling that floods Sam when he hears Bucky laugh. Love is the unspoken tension hanging in the air. Love can shatter to ground like glass, and that’s why the only thing they can do is yearn and hope until the next lifetime, when life becomes a bit easier. When love becomes a bit easier. When you know exactly where you wanna be. When the glass is mended back together with a sweet, soft feeling of forever. No lies, only promises that carry the weight of the world.

Chapter Text

The sun had set, and the people had left. They had just finished cleaning up, and the boys were being rushed to bed. Sam and Bucky were sitting in the living, mindlessly flicking through the TV. Sam was stretched out on the couch, while Bucky was on the floor, leaning against Sam’s legs.

The Friends theme hummed from the TV, and on some instinct, Bucky looked up from staring at the floor. Sam smiled softly at him. Thank god Bucky was staying.

~~~~~~~~

Bucky woke up in the same position he fell asleep in, and realized that Sam had, too. He also took note of the piece of paper thrown onto Sam, probably by Sarah. House listings. With a note scribbled on the side:

Samuel. Not that I don’t appreciate the extra help from both of you (mostly Bucky) but you need some freedom. And I think my laundry machine is broken because of you.

Bucky chuckled softly and set the note down beside Sam. Moving in with Sam. Again. But it was different. Bucky wasn’t trying to find who he was now. Sam wasn’t trying to find who he was now. They had both been burned, scars left by the other, yet stitched up by the other. Now, now they knew who they were, where they wanted to be. 

Bucky took in the look on Sam’s face, the peacefulness and calm etched on his face. “Oh, I am so screwed.” Bucky murmured, his lips quirking up in a small smile. 

Sam stirred awake a few moments later, bringing his hands up to rub his eyes. Bucky pretended that he wasn’t staring at him, and positioned himself to rest against the arm of the couch, pretending to be asleep.

Sam grabbed the note from beside him, and rolled his eyes. He had thought about moving out, he’d been here for about 4 months, he figured he’d give her a break. “Hey.” He nudged Bucky with his foot, and Bucky ‘woke up’ with a groan.

“Hello?”

“Wanna buy a house with me? You are no longer an international fugitive.” Sam inquired, a small smile on his face. Bucky smiled back, and nodded his head.

“Why not, we’ve done stupider things.”

“Name one.” 1) Falling in love .

“The field idea was pretty stupid.” 2) Finding each other.

“So was teaming up with Zemo.” 3) Staying. And leaving.

“Unimportant.”

“Teaming up with an international terrorist felt pretty important.”

“We’re never gonna be able to decide on a house.” Buck joked, making Sam throw his head back laughing. 

So yeah, maybe life wasn’t perfect, maybe life wasn’t simple, maybe people do lie, maybe people do make promises that they can’t keep, maybe, maybe, maybe. All for love. But, for some cruel, difficult, stupid reason, they kept loving. The small stolen glances and smiles are nothing but love. So maybe, maybe nothing really changed. Maybe the only thing stopping them from falling into each other's arms was the precautions they thought they needed. Maybe they are in love, but love is the scariest thing that they’ve ever had to feel, had to know. Loving Sam Wilson was the simplest thing Bucky had ever done. Now, it felt like a forgotten language he had to relearn. So maybe when love is stolen, when there's pressure and pain, love can hurt, love cuts deep wounds you thought had already healed over. Deep wounds from past love that fell through their fingers. Maybe love, in its purest form, is the sharpest blade, the fastest bullet, and the softest touch. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Chapter Text

SEQUEL!!!! yeah i know im slaying. "love that lasts forever" is here. i love it, im very excited, its gonna be a long ass fic but thats okay. anyway, slay all day