[ yes well, sam has some very choice words for that therapist, and not just because he was forced into one of her sessions. he's not even accredited himself, but he has been through enough group sessions and his own fair share of therapy appointments to know when someone just isn't right. and maybe he's no expert. maybe he has no right to tell whatever government official assigned whatever military therapist she's supposed to be.

all sam really wants to say is that maybe, just maybe, there are other things to try. other things that are working. or might work. if bucky wanted the help. but that's a conversation for another time. so for now sam just gives what he can - the advice, the space, the patience. because he's nearly been killed at the hands of the winter soldier more times than he cares to count, he got put on the raft while attempting to clear bucky's name, and now? now there really isn't anyone else he would pick to be at his side. (except for maybe one, but that's not even a possibility)

it's not just that sam isn't afraid of him. sam trusts bucky to have his back. weird stares and grumpy faces and all. i'll fix it in the morning and sam snorts, starting to open the various boxes of leftovers he's got spread out in front of him. ]

You better, or she's going to kill you. And then probably me. [ he looks like he considers this, before picking up one of the takeout boxes. smells it once. then makes a face and sets it back down. ]

So what are we feeling - something...spicy? Savory? You don't have any weird food issues, right?