[ do NOT make sam get the emotion chart out, bucky! he will start from square one so help him, god!
and that's just it - sam isn't mad at bucky. isn't angry with the way he has become. he's frustrated and annoyed and bucky certainly knows every button to press to set sam off. but what started as a shared loyalty, and a friendship born from a respect for that shared loyalty, even sam has to admit that whatever this is going on with him and bucky isn't just because of steve. he trusts bucky, and whether that's smart or good or whatever you want to call it, it's the truth.
sam makes a point to sound put out when he sighs. ] We're not having the conversation again when we both know I'm right. Now- you want food or not?
[ he moves into the kitchen like he's always lived here, filling the space with a comfortable ease that sam has honed over the years. he goes directly for the fridge, so bucky will have to find a spot to settle in. ]
[ see, but that sounds really useful. is it color coded?
maybe he's projecting, because bucky certainly isn't pleased with who he's become. he remembers who he was, now, and in a way that makes everything so much worse - because who he was? was a pretty good guy. no angel, he won't pretend he was ever that, but a good person who knew who he was and what he stood for.
forget steve, what would that guy have to say about the man he grew up to be? nothing nice, he'd wager. or maybe he'd be more forgiving, he can't really objectively say, it was a long time ago and his entire view of the old days is skewed by everything that followed.
bucky leans against the wall as sam gets to work. ]
I don't know that.
[ he didn't used to need to have the last word, but somehow, with sam, he keeps trying to get it. it's one more thing he should probably be asking himself why about, but he's not going to. not now, at least. ]
I didn't come in here for the view. [ pulling himself away from the wall, bucky opens a cabinet in search of a glass to get himself some water. plates. he opens another - and it's bowls. how many dishes does a person need, that they have to be separated into different shelves? he's starting to get frustrated again as he opens the third door. ]
[ funnily enough, it is! he'll print it out and bring it next time. maybe it can help with whatever these conversations are supposed to be, and keep them away from those slight moments when all bucky ends up doing is turning back in on himself.
and no, bucky probably isn't pleased with the man he's working through each day. hell. sam wouldn't be pleased with whatever he would have become either, given the circumstances. steve or no steve, and for all the shit that sam gives him, bucky gets up every day. he tries every day. he works a little closer to what he could be, and that's not nothing. ]
Listen- if you want the food, you will accept that I am all magical when it comes to leftovers and basics. [ sam is currently elbow deep into the fridge, tugging out a few of the leftover boxes and other items he finds in there. when he realizes that bucky is looking around for something, he pops his head out just in time to see bucky open the third cabinet. ]
If you're looking for cups, they're over there. [ he gestures to the other side of the kitchen. ] Closer to the bar.
[ it's worth a try, can't really be worse than what his therapist has him doing.
if he had any sort of objectivity regarding his own progress, maybe bucky could recognize that any minute he's not either curled up into a ball crying his eyes out, or on a murderous, vengeful, rampage, is a win. but he doesn't. all he's got is this anger, this hurt, this fear to sustain him, to keep him going, to keep him trying to prove something that he shouldn't have to prove.
it's exhausting. ]
Not that hungry.
[ he grunts in frustration as the door, once again, proves to be the wrong one. and of course sam knows what the right one is. because this sort of decked out kitchen, it's something he's seen before. avengers compound probably had the works.
he almost wants to give up the whole pretense of this night and -- and what? go back to sleep? that's not happening. he can't leave - there's a price on their heads, and as right as taking punishment feels, he's got a mission to accomplish, he can't tap out. what the hell other option does he have?
striding across the kitchen, bucky opens the next cabinet a little too excessively, and end up with the door in his hand. great. that's going to be a thing, now. with his back turned to sam, he tries to discreetly let out a breath, leans the door down against the floor - he can fix it later - and reaches for a glass. ]
[ yes, well, there are a lot of other things he could be doing instead of what that therapist is telling him. and sam has some ideas. maybe more than just some. but that's a whole different conversation he's not sure either of them are ready to have. and if bucky wanted his advice, he could come to him. sam isn't the type to subject anyone to what he has to say. it's counter-intuitive to the whole process.
still. sam has some things he would like to say. some things he thinks bucky would like to hear. but he's worked with enough trauma survivors and enough war veterans to know what happens when you force anything. so instead, sam is merely here. doing what he can and holding his ground where he can't. ]
You're not that good of a liar. [ is what sam says to that, having enough self preservation to know not to laugh a the frustrated noise bucky makes, only kind of watching as bucky all but stomps off to the other side of the room and watches him - literally - tear the door off its hinges. when bucky turns back around, sam will be standing there, arms crossed over his chest, brow arched at him with a barely contained laugh.
when bucky looks up at him, sam's eyes will go to him, then the cabinet door, then back to him - an unspoken you gonna fix that? before he shakes his head and returns to looking through the boxes of leftovers on the counter in front of him. ]
So I guess that's why you always go at things with your right hand, huh? Your super strength sneak up on you after seventy years?
[ his therapist is a perfect example of what happens when you force it. how's he supposed to cooperate when he doesn't have a choice? and what kind of trust can he build with someone who's so very clearly afraid of him?
he'll never say it, but he's grateful to walker for releasing him from that particular prison. the little bits of advice and care that sam drops around him, even when they fight, are worth infinitely more to him than a thousand hours sitting on a couch in a mostly empty, too large, room, being punished every time he doesn't fall in line. he doesn't really know how to ask for what he needs, let alone what he wants, so when it falls in his lap, he's gotta be grateful.
the look bucky gives sam is a full out challenge. go on, say something, I dare you. the thing is, every time he goads sam, and sam doesn't back down? is helping him a hell of a lot. sam can turn his back to him, he can fight with him, he can reject him. and to bucky?
that means sam isn't afraid of him. and he's desperate for that feeling, for that reassurance. ]
Shoddy modern workmanship, I'll fix it in the morning. [ he doesn't for one second believe he's lucky enough not to have woken zemo with that noise, but he's not about to summon him by making any more. he strides over to the sink, fills his glass, and gulps it down. ]
[ 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?
[ he can't quite put a word to his last session with the doctor - heartbreaking feels wrong, it's too dramatic, and besides, his heart's been broken a long time ago, and he never really trusted her to begin with, but it's as close as he can get, so heartbreaking it is.
it's not that he doesn't listen to sam, it's not that he doesn't understand that sam has good reasons - excellent reasons, even - to be upset with him. no one, not even the families of the winter soldier's victims, not the people who suffered most at his hands, is harsher on bucky than he is on himself. so sam's response, he can understand.
but that woman spent months in that room trying to get him to say something real, and then he did, and she said nothing.
and what more proof does he need? people want to help you, she told him you have to trust. but in the end, she just wanted him off her plate.
it's not that he doesn't want to try, but how's he supposed to try when he hears one thing, but experiences another? how's he supposed to try when he's still forced into things? everything is foreign around him, and it feels like he doesn't even speak the language. with steve gone, he's lost his interpreter, too.
bucky huffs at that comment, and refills his glass. he's got a mission, now, he's not about to die before its done. but if she wants to try once that's finished, she's welcome to. he drinks his water, and rinses his glass. ]
Solid.
[ he's not a picky eater, never was - and even if he ever had that inclination, the great depression followed by the army would've beat it out of him. he'll eat most anything; cold, expired, and dropped on the floor.
but if you give him a protein shake sam, he swears to god. ]
[ but being upset isn't really the full of it, is it? doesn't really capture what it is at its heart. it's more that sam is trying. he's trying to do what he thinks is right, trying to do what he believes is the best, and so far at every turn he's become more and more uncertain. steve always knew what direction to go in, always what he believed was right. it's easy to follow someone like that.
sam isn't so sure. also isn't sure how he feels about anyone following him. especially when it comes to the way bucky will look at him, whenever the shield comes up. because while sam wants to help bucky, he's not entirely sure he wants to save him. he's no steve rogers. and he'll never be.
that's all under the surface whenever it comes to moments like this. all things that sam finds himself thinking when it's just him in the night, but never when he's got somewhere for his hands to be. something to do. a problem to solve.
like, right now, their midnight snack. ] What do I look like to you- a heathen? [ he snorts, shakes his head. ] Please.
[ there will be no protein shakes here! and sam will get to work doing....whatever it is he's going to do with these leftovers. but they'll definitely be solid by the end. ]
[ bucky is trying to honor the last request of the last bit of family he had left. steve wouldn't have wanted him to fight over this, he knows that, he was gracious and understanding that way - he'd be sad, seeing them fight the way they do, over him, over his legacy. but taking care of steve, supporting steve, it's the only thing that was familiar to him once his brain was allowed to crawl out of the ice without being zapped right back into a coma.
it's all he has left. and that shield, the legacy of that shield? it's his legacy, too. it's everything he did right, before everything he did wrong, it's everything he tried to stand for, before he fell and hydra took the choice out of his hands.
that shield is how he tried to live his life, and watching it be degraded in the hands of a cap wannabe, who steve didn't even know, let alone approve of - instead of the man he entrusted it to? is an endless slap to the face. the shield, the mantle of captain america, it wasn't the government's to give - it was never theirs to give. the vibranium was stolen from wakanda, designed by howard stark - more friends that bucky owes unpayable debts to - and it has been carried by steve and only steve for decades.
he entrusted that; all its memories, and all its promises, into sam's hands. and bucky, of course he understood, of course he approved. the winter soldier can't be captain america, captain america has to be good. sam - sam is good, unmistakably, irrefutably, constantly, good. steve believed in him, and bucky? he believed in steve's faith, yes, because he has to, because if he trusted to his own, he wouldn't be able to keep living. but when it comes to sam? bucky believes in him, too.
he's not looking to be saved, steve couldn't really save him, either, and in the end, even that stubborn punk gave up trying - that right there should tell sam everything he needs to know about how impossible that particular task is. no, he's not looking to be saved. he's looking -- what is he looking for? acceptance? understanding? a sense of still belonging - to something, if not somewhere, someone? steve. he's looking for steve. he's looking for confirmation to that faith he had, he's looking for a reminder that he may be gone, but his spirit is still strong, still here, still being stubbornly and relentlessly right. he's trying to find some way to process the loyalty that's hit a wall, a way to make peace with steve walking out, leaving bucky to meet the end of the line on his own - because steve entrusted his shield to sam, and maybe to bucky, that entrusted him with something more.
or at least, these are things he might think, might figure out, if he really stopped to think about them. at the moment, he can't really get past the guttural anger he feels when he sees that shield in the hands of john walker, when he thinks about this man - who never even met steve! - claim he was like a brother. steve rogers had a brother, thank you very much, and he's still here, dammit. steve wasn't some icon, he was a person, he was the most important person to bucky, and his blood boils at the way his wishes have been ignored.
so what does sam look like to him? a heathen? sometimes, yes. ]
How do I know what goes without saying with you.
[ people do weird shit in this century weird fucking shit, sam, and if he weren't so angry all the time - he'd have a million questions to pose to him about the little interactions he's had with them. ]
[ see that's the thing sam is having the hardest time with. because he gets it. he can sympathize. he's not arrogant or full of himself or traumatized enough to try and act like he fully understands where bucky is coming from. there are some things that you will never, truly, be able to experience. and you shouldn't want to. bucky has gone through hell and back - for steve, for himself, for the sake of survival - and on the nights where sam thinks back on those files, on the information he learned, the things that bucky was forced to do - it gives him nightmares. or maybe not nightmares, but god. something close enough.
but sam can, to a point, understand. bucky is a soldier back from war to find that everything he had left behind, every piece of home and family and life, was gone. he left, he was changed, and what he came back to was as foreign as the world he'd been in before. he latched onto the most familiar thing he had, something that couldn't make a single decision that left him behind, and he latched. sam knows what that feels like. knows the desperation in putting your hope and your life and your footing in something, because a thing can't let you down. you can't let a thing down. not really. for sam, in some ways, it was the boat he left at home. it was the idea of having a home to go back to. which - in all honesty - isn't any better, considering how that boat and that life and that home might be slipping through his fingers even now.
he has to remind himself, though. one step at a time. one fight. make your decision and move on. he made his decision, where it concerned the shield. he had put it away somewhere he thought was safe and he told the rest of the country to find new heroes. to move on. (maybe because he knew he was having trouble doing it himself).
it didn't work, obviously. and sam blames himself for that. putting his faith that the government would keep their promise. putting his faith in the people giving orders, when he knew better. but that was a weighty kind of guilt he would have to process later. when they were's fighting super soldiers. when they weren't facing a terrorist group that threatened to take down all that they - that steve - had fought to keep together.
and for the record - sam is angry, too. angry when he goes to sleep. angry when he wakes up. angry, so angry, but anger has never served him like action did. so he swallows it and uses it to propel him forward. ]
Because I'm a good communicator, obviously. [ sam says it with a kind of casual haughtiness. there is a silent implication of maybe you should try it sometime that sam doesn't bother to voice.
he moves to find some kind of bowl, setting out different parts of the takeout boxes into different dishes, working them into a kind of casserole-esque plate, obviously comfortable enough with his work not to keep force conversation with bucky if he doesn't want to chitchat. ]
[ sam might get it, to an extent, but what he doesn't get? is that bucky doesn't feel that he gets it, and he needs to. he desperately needs to feel that someone gets it, someone gets him. everyone who's ever loved him is gone, and he's riddled with too much guilt to really try and make anyone see his side of things, to stand up for himself when lines get crossed around him left and right (they pardoned the bionic staring machine, and he killed almost everyone he met it rings in his ears, repeated, reminding him what he is in the eyes of the people around him - even the good ones, even the ones who mostly see him as good and a person.
he's always going to be the winter soldier, isn't he? and no amount of rehearsed speeches telling people I am no longer the winter soldier is going to change that. because he was the man behind the mask, and that's all the world will ever let him be. justifiably? maybe, he doesn't know. he's a little too close to it to render a sound judgement). sam wants him to approach, to make the first move, to ask for help, but what he doesn't get? is that bucky doesn't feel safe doing that with him, and it's not all down to his trauma.
sam might get it, but he keeps that understanding a little too close to his chest sometimes. it's a big leap of faith for bucky, to open up, and big leaps have, historically, not worked out great for him.
it's not that anger serves bucky any better, it's just that anger -- it's the emotion he allows himself to express. can he express his heartbreak, over the life he lost the things that were done to him, the things he's done, and steve walking away from him in the end? of course not. it's disrespectful to the people he's hurt, it's disrespectful to steve - and he may have a whole laundry list of faults, but he has never disrespected steve, or not accepted one of his choices in the most supportive manner possible. can he express his shame? his pain? his sadness? no, no, no. so what does he have left?
anger. it's anger. it's all he's got.
bucky resists the urge to roll his eyes at that particular zing. he's got things to say about it, but hey, he's not a good communicator, right? he doesn't have to say anything. so instead, he busies himself by getting the plates - he knows where those are, now, after all - and back to his spot leaning against the wall, where he gets a good view of sam doing his work - and zemo's door. if he's eavesdropping, he's at least making himself work for it, because there's no sign of the guy.
good. bucky prides himself on having pretty good anger management skills all things considered, but his grip on it isn't the best tonight.
this is the winter soldier's position; defensive, a good view of his environment, ready to pounce at a moment's notice. and the thing is? it's so instinctual for him to get in it at this point, it's no longer even a conscious decision. I am no longer the winter soldier - maybe. but the winter soldier is as alive in bucky as bucky was in it, and the lack of regular mind-wipes render it more expressive. ]
[ maybe that's one of sam's faults. because sam has them. faults and mistakes and things he's done that he could have done better. mistakes that he doesn't even realize he's made and others that follow him into those dark nights. he sees the faces of fellow soldiers, people he's failed to help. maybe he shouldn't have said it all, but sam has a nasty habit of taking those leaps of faith, again and again. maybe he should be more explicit that he's trying to bridge this gap with bucky, maybe he should try more, better. he's already failed on that end, could have done more, been better. could have kept the shield and saved them all a lot of heartache. himself a lot of heartache.
( could have stopped himself from feeling like he's failed steve. )
so sam, instead, just tries to do his thing. he and bucky don't get along, and while the bigger part of him is fine to ignore that and just keep trucking, there is a part that wants to push. wants to ask. wants to keep bucky there and keep him talking and maybe, just maybe, if given the time, bucky doesn't have to leap. that maybe, after working and working, slowly but surely, it's become a step, rather than a leap at all. or at the very least, give bucky the opportunity to make the step, rather than any leap. rather than any potential for falling.
granted - sam may not be the best person to ask about that, given his propensity for leaping. for jumping off ledges and waiting for his wings to catch him on the way down.
and yes, there is a part of him that maybe, possibly, should second guess that. maybe he should think about the people he's lost, or almost lost. about the people no longer with him.
sam could say more. sam could keep picking at bucky until he finally gives. he knows that he annoys bucky, just as bucky annoys and frustrates him in return. there's always been a back and forth between them, and that's probably why sam is even here, still. it's also probably why sam feels like he can get a sense of where bucky's head is. not entirely, he isn't sure he'll ever be able to read bucky's mid, or if he ever really wants to. but he can sense something there. something under the surface that bucky hasn't shaken for the night. something off.
but sam isn't going to push. or at least - he's not going to push yet. if at all.
bucky gets the plates and sets them down, and sam nods, mutters a quick - ] Thanks, man. [ because he is thankful. for bucky's place, for his help, for him moving without sam asking. then he moves to stand back into his spot. defensive stance, watching the room and the door and everything else in between. it's protective, in bucky's own weird way. defensive. paranoid. but overall, sam doesn't see any harm in that, so sam lets him without comment.
over the next few minutes, sam simply gets to work. he works with the food. he hums to himself. bucky is in the corner, doing his staring thing, but sam lets him, this time.
then - when all is said and done - sam plates two dishes, with a little left over if sharon or zemo rises - and picks up both of them, walking one over to bucky and holding it out for bucky to take. and when he does, sam leans back against the island, getting comfortable, as he takes a bite - thinking for a moment, judging his own creation, and then shrugging. ]
[ human beings make mistakes, be weird if they didn't. bucky wouldn't trust a person who didn't, not in a million years, because that's not a person.
provided it was given orders that allowed it wiggle room to get the job done its own way, the winter soldier didn't make mistakes. it was only ever limited by its handlers. really, bucky should be grateful that pierce didn't instruct him to kill fury, kill captain america, and ended it there. if those were the winter soldier's mission parameters, both would have been dead now, along with countless millions of potential hydra resistance, and he would still be buried somewhere down deep in hydra's programing. hell, thanos maybe would've skipped their planet, hydra would have already done the job for him.
but that wasn't what pierce said. he thought he was clever. rumlow, thought he was clever. they thought they knew better, that their broad daylight tactics were more effective than the winter soldier's shadow skulking, which it's been made for, trained for, for decades. they thought they had to keep an eye on it around steve - not a bad instinct - but in doing so, allowed it time with the man.
human beings make mistakes. machines don't. so all in all, bucky greatly prefers a fuck up here and there, even if it hurts, even if it pushes at his raw nerves, even if he thinks there's nothing clever or funny about bringing up his victims as a zinger. there's a greater chance of him eventually trusting, inching closer to coming to, a human being who fucked up a couple times, than a machine that handled it all perfectly.
granted, clearing 'o chance' is a low bar. but it's not that sam exclusively fucks up. he trusted bucky when bucky sprang zemo. he goes to sleep in the sam room with him without appearing to worry he'll never wake up again. he turns his back to him, not appearing to worry it's the last mistake he'll ever make. he isn't jumpy around him. they're all things bucky appreciates. but the thing he appreciates most of all?
he's still here. despite his anger, even during the worst of it, he didn't threaten to disappear on him now, to cut him out. we never have to see each other after this mission. bucky would fight the battle he needs to fight either way, but sam's not making him go at it alone, and that's not nothing.
it's actually quite a lot.
but today was a rough day. today sucked. having to pretend he was a thing again on its own would have been enough. but no, he also had to follow zemo's orders of all people. zemo. the man who made him ruin steve's life. who nearly had him killing steve with his own bare hands. and sam. zemo, who's constantly pocking and prodding at him, trying to pull the winter soldier back out into the light. he won't admit to sam that he's scared, because facing zemo - it's something he needs. he has to know that he can stand up to it, that he can take the manipulation without cracking. if he doesn't test himself, he'll never trust himself. bucky is playing the highest stakes game of poker with zemo. today, he took a beating.
but the game's not over yet.
bucky watches sam work with disguised interest. he never really got to see how to work in a kitchen; he was always shooed out by his mother, their kitchen was small, and it wasn't his place. he was only ever called back in when it was time to do the dishes or take the trash out.
now, he's living all on his own, and he's pretty helpless in this field. yes, he knows, there's a shocking number of cooking shows and more recipes online to follow than he knows where to start with. but he's not used to learning from a screen. everything he's learned in life as himself - has been from another person who was right there in the room with him. or outdoors. in his space, okay, gees.
he mutters a quiet ] Thanks. [ when sam hands him the plate, and digs right in.
bucky didn't exaggerate, when he said he'd eat anything solid. hell, if he had no other choice and it was another day, he would have even swallowed the bad memories and downed a protein shake. food is food, and you don't waste it.
but this is actually pretty good. it's not at all nostalgic, but it also doesn't remind him of his time at hydra, and today? he'll take it. ]
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and that's just it - sam isn't mad at bucky. isn't angry with the way he has become. he's frustrated and annoyed and bucky certainly knows every button to press to set sam off. but what started as a shared loyalty, and a friendship born from a respect for that shared loyalty, even sam has to admit that whatever this is going on with him and bucky isn't just because of steve. he trusts bucky, and whether that's smart or good or whatever you want to call it, it's the truth.
sam makes a point to sound put out when he sighs. ] We're not having the conversation again when we both know I'm right. Now- you want food or not?
[ he moves into the kitchen like he's always lived here, filling the space with a comfortable ease that sam has honed over the years. he goes directly for the fridge, so bucky will have to find a spot to settle in. ]
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maybe he's projecting, because bucky certainly isn't pleased with who he's become. he remembers who he was, now, and in a way that makes everything so much worse - because who he was? was a pretty good guy. no angel, he won't pretend he was ever that, but a good person who knew who he was and what he stood for.
forget steve, what would that guy have to say about the man he grew up to be? nothing nice, he'd wager. or maybe he'd be more forgiving, he can't really objectively say, it was a long time ago and his entire view of the old days is skewed by everything that followed.
bucky leans against the wall as sam gets to work. ]
I don't know that.
[ he didn't used to need to have the last word, but somehow, with sam, he keeps trying to get it. it's one more thing he should probably be asking himself why about, but he's not going to. not now, at least. ]
I didn't come in here for the view. [ pulling himself away from the wall, bucky opens a cabinet in search of a glass to get himself some water. plates. he opens another - and it's bowls. how many dishes does a person need, that they have to be separated into different shelves? he's starting to get frustrated again as he opens the third door. ]
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and no, bucky probably isn't pleased with the man he's working through each day. hell. sam wouldn't be pleased with whatever he would have become either, given the circumstances. steve or no steve, and for all the shit that sam gives him, bucky gets up every day. he tries every day. he works a little closer to what he could be, and that's not nothing. ]
Listen- if you want the food, you will accept that I am all magical when it comes to leftovers and basics. [ sam is currently elbow deep into the fridge, tugging out a few of the leftover boxes and other items he finds in there. when he realizes that bucky is looking around for something, he pops his head out just in time to see bucky open the third cabinet. ]
If you're looking for cups, they're over there. [ he gestures to the other side of the kitchen. ] Closer to the bar.
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if he had any sort of objectivity regarding his own progress, maybe bucky could recognize that any minute he's not either curled up into a ball crying his eyes out, or on a murderous, vengeful, rampage, is a win. but he doesn't. all he's got is this anger, this hurt, this fear to sustain him, to keep him going, to keep him trying to prove something that he shouldn't have to prove.
it's exhausting. ]
Not that hungry.
[ he grunts in frustration as the door, once again, proves to be the wrong one. and of course sam knows what the right one is. because this sort of decked out kitchen, it's something he's seen before. avengers compound probably had the works.
he almost wants to give up the whole pretense of this night and -- and what? go back to sleep? that's not happening. he can't leave - there's a price on their heads, and as right as taking punishment feels, he's got a mission to accomplish, he can't tap out. what the hell other option does he have?
striding across the kitchen, bucky opens the next cabinet a little too excessively, and end up with the door in his hand. great. that's going to be a thing, now. with his back turned to sam, he tries to discreetly let out a breath, leans the door down against the floor - he can fix it later - and reaches for a glass. ]
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still. sam has some things he would like to say. some things he thinks bucky would like to hear. but he's worked with enough trauma survivors and enough war veterans to know what happens when you force anything. so instead, sam is merely here. doing what he can and holding his ground where he can't. ]
You're not that good of a liar. [ is what sam says to that, having enough self preservation to know not to laugh a the frustrated noise bucky makes, only kind of watching as bucky all but stomps off to the other side of the room and watches him - literally - tear the door off its hinges. when bucky turns back around, sam will be standing there, arms crossed over his chest, brow arched at him with a barely contained laugh.
when bucky looks up at him, sam's eyes will go to him, then the cabinet door, then back to him - an unspoken you gonna fix that? before he shakes his head and returns to looking through the boxes of leftovers on the counter in front of him. ]
So I guess that's why you always go at things with your right hand, huh? Your super strength sneak up on you after seventy years?
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he'll never say it, but he's grateful to walker for releasing him from that particular prison. the little bits of advice and care that sam drops around him, even when they fight, are worth infinitely more to him than a thousand hours sitting on a couch in a mostly empty, too large, room, being punished every time he doesn't fall in line. he doesn't really know how to ask for what he needs, let alone what he wants, so when it falls in his lap, he's gotta be grateful.
the look bucky gives sam is a full out challenge. go on, say something, I dare you. the thing is, every time he goads sam, and sam doesn't back down? is helping him a hell of a lot. sam can turn his back to him, he can fight with him, he can reject him. and to bucky?
that means sam isn't afraid of him. and he's desperate for that feeling, for that reassurance. ]
Shoddy modern workmanship, I'll fix it in the morning. [ he doesn't for one second believe he's lucky enough not to have woken zemo with that noise, but he's not about to summon him by making any more. he strides over to the sink, fills his glass, and gulps it down. ]
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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?
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it's not that he doesn't listen to sam, it's not that he doesn't understand that sam has good reasons - excellent reasons, even - to be upset with him. no one, not even the families of the winter soldier's victims, not the people who suffered most at his hands, is harsher on bucky than he is on himself. so sam's response, he can understand.
but that woman spent months in that room trying to get him to say something real, and then he did, and she said nothing.
and what more proof does he need? people want to help you, she told him you have to trust. but in the end, she just wanted him off her plate.
it's not that he doesn't want to try, but how's he supposed to try when he hears one thing, but experiences another? how's he supposed to try when he's still forced into things? everything is foreign around him, and it feels like he doesn't even speak the language. with steve gone, he's lost his interpreter, too.
bucky huffs at that comment, and refills his glass. he's got a mission, now, he's not about to die before its done. but if she wants to try once that's finished, she's welcome to. he drinks his water, and rinses his glass. ]
Solid.
[ he's not a picky eater, never was - and even if he ever had that inclination, the great depression followed by the army would've beat it out of him. he'll eat most anything; cold, expired, and dropped on the floor.
but if you give him a protein shake sam, he swears to god. ]
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sam isn't so sure. also isn't sure how he feels about anyone following him. especially when it comes to the way bucky will look at him, whenever the shield comes up. because while sam wants to help bucky, he's not entirely sure he wants to save him. he's no steve rogers. and he'll never be.
that's all under the surface whenever it comes to moments like this. all things that sam finds himself thinking when it's just him in the night, but never when he's got somewhere for his hands to be. something to do. a problem to solve.
like, right now, their midnight snack. ] What do I look like to you- a heathen? [ he snorts, shakes his head. ] Please.
[ there will be no protein shakes here! and sam will get to work doing....whatever it is he's going to do with these leftovers. but they'll definitely be solid by the end. ]
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it's all he has left. and that shield, the legacy of that shield? it's his legacy, too. it's everything he did right, before everything he did wrong, it's everything he tried to stand for, before he fell and hydra took the choice out of his hands.
that shield is how he tried to live his life, and watching it be degraded in the hands of a cap wannabe, who steve didn't even know, let alone approve of - instead of the man he entrusted it to? is an endless slap to the face. the shield, the mantle of captain america, it wasn't the government's to give - it was never theirs to give. the vibranium was stolen from wakanda, designed by howard stark - more friends that bucky owes unpayable debts to - and it has been carried by steve and only steve for decades.
he entrusted that; all its memories, and all its promises, into sam's hands. and bucky, of course he understood, of course he approved. the winter soldier can't be captain america, captain america has to be good. sam - sam is good, unmistakably, irrefutably, constantly, good. steve believed in him, and bucky? he believed in steve's faith, yes, because he has to, because if he trusted to his own, he wouldn't be able to keep living. but when it comes to sam? bucky believes in him, too.
he's not looking to be saved, steve couldn't really save him, either, and in the end, even that stubborn punk gave up trying - that right there should tell sam everything he needs to know about how impossible that particular task is. no, he's not looking to be saved. he's looking -- what is he looking for? acceptance? understanding? a sense of still belonging - to something, if not somewhere, someone? steve. he's looking for steve. he's looking for confirmation to that faith he had, he's looking for a reminder that he may be gone, but his spirit is still strong, still here, still being stubbornly and relentlessly right. he's trying to find some way to process the loyalty that's hit a wall, a way to make peace with steve walking out, leaving bucky to meet the end of the line on his own - because steve entrusted his shield to sam, and maybe to bucky, that entrusted him with something more.
or at least, these are things he might think, might figure out, if he really stopped to think about them. at the moment, he can't really get past the guttural anger he feels when he sees that shield in the hands of john walker, when he thinks about this man - who never even met steve! - claim he was like a brother. steve rogers had a brother, thank you very much, and he's still here, dammit. steve wasn't some icon, he was a person, he was the most important person to bucky, and his blood boils at the way his wishes have been ignored.
so what does sam look like to him? a heathen? sometimes, yes. ]
How do I know what goes without saying with you.
[ people do weird shit in this century weird fucking shit, sam, and if he weren't so angry all the time - he'd have a million questions to pose to him about the little interactions he's had with them. ]
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but sam can, to a point, understand. bucky is a soldier back from war to find that everything he had left behind, every piece of home and family and life, was gone. he left, he was changed, and what he came back to was as foreign as the world he'd been in before. he latched onto the most familiar thing he had, something that couldn't make a single decision that left him behind, and he latched. sam knows what that feels like. knows the desperation in putting your hope and your life and your footing in something, because a thing can't let you down. you can't let a thing down. not really. for sam, in some ways, it was the boat he left at home. it was the idea of having a home to go back to. which - in all honesty - isn't any better, considering how that boat and that life and that home might be slipping through his fingers even now.
he has to remind himself, though. one step at a time. one fight. make your decision and move on. he made his decision, where it concerned the shield. he had put it away somewhere he thought was safe and he told the rest of the country to find new heroes. to move on. (maybe because he knew he was having trouble doing it himself).
it didn't work, obviously. and sam blames himself for that. putting his faith that the government would keep their promise. putting his faith in the people giving orders, when he knew better. but that was a weighty kind of guilt he would have to process later. when they were's fighting super soldiers. when they weren't facing a terrorist group that threatened to take down all that they - that steve - had fought to keep together.
and for the record - sam is angry, too. angry when he goes to sleep. angry when he wakes up. angry, so angry, but anger has never served him like action did. so he swallows it and uses it to propel him forward. ]
Because I'm a good communicator, obviously. [ sam says it with a kind of casual haughtiness. there is a silent implication of maybe you should try it sometime that sam doesn't bother to voice.
he moves to find some kind of bowl, setting out different parts of the takeout boxes into different dishes, working them into a kind of casserole-esque plate, obviously comfortable enough with his work not to keep force conversation with bucky if he doesn't want to chitchat. ]
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he's always going to be the winter soldier, isn't he? and no amount of rehearsed speeches telling people I am no longer the winter soldier is going to change that. because he was the man behind the mask, and that's all the world will ever let him be. justifiably? maybe, he doesn't know. he's a little too close to it to render a sound judgement). sam wants him to approach, to make the first move, to ask for help, but what he doesn't get? is that bucky doesn't feel safe doing that with him, and it's not all down to his trauma.
sam might get it, but he keeps that understanding a little too close to his chest sometimes. it's a big leap of faith for bucky, to open up, and big leaps have, historically, not worked out great for him.
it's not that anger serves bucky any better, it's just that anger -- it's the emotion he allows himself to express. can he express his heartbreak, over the life he lost the things that were done to him, the things he's done, and steve walking away from him in the end? of course not. it's disrespectful to the people he's hurt, it's disrespectful to steve - and he may have a whole laundry list of faults, but he has never disrespected steve, or not accepted one of his choices in the most supportive manner possible. can he express his shame? his pain? his sadness? no, no, no. so what does he have left?
anger. it's anger. it's all he's got.
bucky resists the urge to roll his eyes at that particular zing. he's got things to say about it, but hey, he's not a good communicator, right? he doesn't have to say anything. so instead, he busies himself by getting the plates - he knows where those are, now, after all - and back to his spot leaning against the wall, where he gets a good view of sam doing his work - and zemo's door. if he's eavesdropping, he's at least making himself work for it, because there's no sign of the guy.
good. bucky prides himself on having pretty good anger management skills all things considered, but his grip on it isn't the best tonight.
this is the winter soldier's position; defensive, a good view of his environment, ready to pounce at a moment's notice. and the thing is? it's so instinctual for him to get in it at this point, it's no longer even a conscious decision. I am no longer the winter soldier - maybe. but the winter soldier is as alive in bucky as bucky was in it, and the lack of regular mind-wipes render it more expressive. ]
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( could have stopped himself from feeling like he's failed steve. )
so sam, instead, just tries to do his thing. he and bucky don't get along, and while the bigger part of him is fine to ignore that and just keep trucking, there is a part that wants to push. wants to ask. wants to keep bucky there and keep him talking and maybe, just maybe, if given the time, bucky doesn't have to leap. that maybe, after working and working, slowly but surely, it's become a step, rather than a leap at all. or at the very least, give bucky the opportunity to make the step, rather than any leap. rather than any potential for falling.
granted - sam may not be the best person to ask about that, given his propensity for leaping. for jumping off ledges and waiting for his wings to catch him on the way down.
and yes, there is a part of him that maybe, possibly, should second guess that. maybe he should think about the people he's lost, or almost lost. about the people no longer with him.
sam could say more. sam could keep picking at bucky until he finally gives. he knows that he annoys bucky, just as bucky annoys and frustrates him in return. there's always been a back and forth between them, and that's probably why sam is even here, still. it's also probably why sam feels like he can get a sense of where bucky's head is. not entirely, he isn't sure he'll ever be able to read bucky's mid, or if he ever really wants to. but he can sense something there. something under the surface that bucky hasn't shaken for the night. something off.
but sam isn't going to push. or at least - he's not going to push yet. if at all.
bucky gets the plates and sets them down, and sam nods, mutters a quick - ] Thanks, man. [ because he is thankful. for bucky's place, for his help, for him moving without sam asking. then he moves to stand back into his spot. defensive stance, watching the room and the door and everything else in between. it's protective, in bucky's own weird way. defensive. paranoid. but overall, sam doesn't see any harm in that, so sam lets him without comment.
over the next few minutes, sam simply gets to work. he works with the food. he hums to himself. bucky is in the corner, doing his staring thing, but sam lets him, this time.
then - when all is said and done - sam plates two dishes, with a little left over if sharon or zemo rises - and picks up both of them, walking one over to bucky and holding it out for bucky to take. and when he does, sam leans back against the island, getting comfortable, as he takes a bite - thinking for a moment, judging his own creation, and then shrugging. ]
Not bad, for what I had.
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provided it was given orders that allowed it wiggle room to get the job done its own way, the winter soldier didn't make mistakes. it was only ever limited by its handlers. really, bucky should be grateful that pierce didn't instruct him to kill fury, kill captain america, and ended it there. if those were the winter soldier's mission parameters, both would have been dead now, along with countless millions of potential hydra resistance, and he would still be buried somewhere down deep in hydra's programing. hell, thanos maybe would've skipped their planet, hydra would have already done the job for him.
but that wasn't what pierce said. he thought he was clever. rumlow, thought he was clever. they thought they knew better, that their broad daylight tactics were more effective than the winter soldier's shadow skulking, which it's been made for, trained for, for decades. they thought they had to keep an eye on it around steve - not a bad instinct - but in doing so, allowed it time with the man.
human beings make mistakes. machines don't. so all in all, bucky greatly prefers a fuck up here and there, even if it hurts, even if it pushes at his raw nerves, even if he thinks there's nothing clever or funny about bringing up his victims as a zinger. there's a greater chance of him eventually trusting, inching closer to coming to, a human being who fucked up a couple times, than a machine that handled it all perfectly.
granted, clearing 'o chance' is a low bar. but it's not that sam exclusively fucks up. he trusted bucky when bucky sprang zemo. he goes to sleep in the sam room with him without appearing to worry he'll never wake up again. he turns his back to him, not appearing to worry it's the last mistake he'll ever make. he isn't jumpy around him. they're all things bucky appreciates. but the thing he appreciates most of all?
he's still here. despite his anger, even during the worst of it, he didn't threaten to disappear on him now, to cut him out. we never have to see each other after this mission. bucky would fight the battle he needs to fight either way, but sam's not making him go at it alone, and that's not nothing.
it's actually quite a lot.
but today was a rough day. today sucked. having to pretend he was a thing again on its own would have been enough. but no, he also had to follow zemo's orders of all people. zemo. the man who made him ruin steve's life. who nearly had him killing steve with his own bare hands. and sam. zemo, who's constantly pocking and prodding at him, trying to pull the winter soldier back out into the light. he won't admit to sam that he's scared, because facing zemo - it's something he needs. he has to know that he can stand up to it, that he can take the manipulation without cracking. if he doesn't test himself, he'll never trust himself. bucky is playing the highest stakes game of poker with zemo. today, he took a beating.
but the game's not over yet.
bucky watches sam work with disguised interest. he never really got to see how to work in a kitchen; he was always shooed out by his mother, their kitchen was small, and it wasn't his place. he was only ever called back in when it was time to do the dishes or take the trash out.
now, he's living all on his own, and he's pretty helpless in this field. yes, he knows, there's a shocking number of cooking shows and more recipes online to follow than he knows where to start with. but he's not used to learning from a screen. everything he's learned in life as himself - has been from another person who was right there in the room with him. or outdoors. in his space, okay, gees.
he mutters a quiet ] Thanks. [ when sam hands him the plate, and digs right in.
bucky didn't exaggerate, when he said he'd eat anything solid. hell, if he had no other choice and it was another day, he would have even swallowed the bad memories and downed a protein shake. food is food, and you don't waste it.
but this is actually pretty good. it's not at all nostalgic, but it also doesn't remind him of his time at hydra, and today? he'll take it. ]
What is it? [ he asks between big bites. ]