Chapter Text
"In my memory, it doesn't end. We just stay here, looking at each other, forever."
-John Green
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Bucky’s phone had rang the second he exited the press conference.
He ducked into an alleyway where he parked his Harley, taking solace in the momentary solitude. He almost forgot that someone was calling him.
His old burner buzzed a couple of times in his pocket before he pulled it out with shaky hands and put it to his ear. He didn’t have to look to know who it was.
“Buck?” Sam’s voice called, trembling with worry. It was a damn miracle, hearing that voice again. He didn’t think he would.
“Sam. Hey.” His voice was shaky and raspy when he answered. There was a sigh of relief on the other side of the line, and then silence. That’s when he began getting nervous. Because the silence wasn’t something comfortable, as it always was with them. Sam and Bucky were familiar with each other. Everything they shared, even silence, held love in it. But his hands were trembling and his brain was still a bit scrambled, and he didn’t quite know what to say.
Luckily, Sam spoke up and filled the silence with love once more.
“When are you gonna get home?” He asked. Home. Sam still wanted him there. The thought made love swell in his chest.
“Soon. I was just about to start driving, when you called.” Bucky replied. It wasn’t necessarily a lie. He was about to start driving. To where, he didn’t know. A voice in his head was telling him that Sam was unbelievably mad at him, and it was better not to go back at all. That he wouldn’t be missed.
(Oddly enough, his exact thoughts had been echoed at him in the void, when he entered one of his shame rooms that pictured him when Steve left. He was sitting on his old apartment’s tile floor, bleeding. The cuts weren’t enough to kill him, he knew that, but it was what he deserved. He wouldn’t be missed.)
Though, now he had Sam’s voice in his ear, asking him when he would be home in that reassuring tone. It was enough to keep that voice at bay. It always was.
“Oh, c’mon Buck. Don’t be that way. Take a flight back. I’ll put on my wings, if it’ll stop your stubborn ass.” Sam countered.
“Can’t fly. Too much press. Besides, you’re probably exhausted from doing Cap stuff. You don’t need to be flying right now.” Bucky argued. He knew that Sam would fly to get him even if he was bleeding out and on the verge of death. Neither of them really knew how to quit.
“Bucky…” Sam warned.
“I’ll be fine. I swear. I’ll be there in 3-ish hours, if I speed.” He assured, already hopping on his Harley and revving it. The motorcycle purred in a familiar way.
“I’ll save you a plate of supper tonight. I made that pasta you’re always raving about. Don’t die on your way here.”
“Didn’t plan on it,” Bucky teased. The eye roll was almost tangible over the phone.
“Uh-huh. Love you, Buck.”
His heart dropped in his stomach.
“Love you, too.” He whispered. The line hummed, then went dead.
A piece of him stayed there, in that alleyway, as he began driving to DC.
____
“I’m home!” Bucky called out, opening the door to their apartment.
He wandered through the entryway, plopping his bag down near the kitchen island. Sam usually came out from wherever he was , and they would hug and kiss and say their ‘Imissedyous’. But the house was quiet.
“Sam?” He called out, checking his corners top to bottom. Some things became instinct after being in the army (and then being trained as an assassin). Knowing exactly how to find someone was one of those things.
A small sound picked up from their bedroom- a TV clicking off. Bucky stalked over to their room, and found Sam sitting on the edge of the bed, staring up at the blank TV.
“Hey Sammy.” Bucky greeted, walking over and plopping beside Sam. There was a small flinch- barely perceptible to the average person (which Bucky was not). And it made his stomach sink.
“I saw the footage. Of New York.” Sam said , monotone. He didn’t even turn his head. Bucky couldn’t even make himself an excuse. His throat had closed up, mouth automatically dry.
(It reminded him- almost uncomfortably- of the muzzle forced upon him as the Winter Soldier.)
Sam turned to look at him. That almost made it worse.
“The New Avengers, huh?” He asked, a small shake to his voice. They had known each other for so long, they both knew one another’s tells inside and out. So Bucky knew that Sam was positively irate. Betrayed. He had every right.
“Sam- I didn’t know she was going to pull that shit. None of us did. I’ve been trying to get her arrested for the past year, do you really think I’d work with her?” Bucky questioned. It was desperate, pleading.
“Well you sure didn’t step up and say that when she got up and started lying about the world’s ‘new heroes’!” Sam accused.
“Oh come on, Sam, that would’ve been a nightmare. The press would have a field day! And you and I both know that we don’t need anymore bad press-”
“Then just break up the team. Say you were planning to go into retirement. Just-” He paused. Trying to grasp at words. “-When I came up to you, after the whole flag-smashers mess, I said I was putting together a team. My own New Avengers. And you said you were fine being on the sidelines, that you didn’t want to fight anymore. I supported that decision. I always have. Can’t you see, just for a moment, how this looks to me? You being on your own team? With Walker, of all people?”
“Of course I can, Sam.” Bucky sighed. “But these people need something to believe in. They finally got a taste of what it’s like to be doing the right thing again- to help people instead of hurt them. I was like that once Sam. And guess who believed in me? Guess who gave me that chance? You. All I’m trying to do is give them the chance you gave me.”
“So you’re just gonna let this happen? You’re just gonna become another weapon for another greater evil. This New Avengers shit is just the same thing. All of you are just becoming weapons, only with inspirational posters as a bonus.” Sam spat out.
Bucky took a step back for a moment. The wind felt like it was knocked out of his lungs.
“Don’t, Sam.” He hissed, fists clenching at his sides. His entire body was trembling.
Sam looked guilty for a half second, before allowing his expression to grow cold once more.
“You’ve seen what Valentina’s done, Buck. She’s just as bad as HYDRA. Don’t let her use you too.”
They fell silent for a moment, at a standstill.
“I can’t just leave them.” Bucky whispered, staring at the ground.
“Then maybe you should just go.”
Bucky’s head snapped up, searching Sam’s eyes for anything. All he saw were hard, cold, eyes filled with utter betrayal.
“Fine.” Bucky snapped, turning around and marching off. Grabbing his bag from where he had sat it earlier, he turned around for a moment.
Sam hadn’t followed.
Bucky inhaled sharply, fighting back spare tears. It was irrational to think Sam would follow him. Or at least see him out. A silly hope.
(Then again, didn’t he and Sam always follow each other?)
With a sigh, he wrenched open the door and walked back to where he had parked his motorcycle.
His hands shook as he revved up the bike and peeled out of the driveway.