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He didn’t know what to say to him. I told you so would be a dick move. Bucky didn’t want to be right. If Sam still saw some hope in the world, Bucky knew he could squint and see it too, but hell, if the man on his porch-his shoulders rounded, his head down- was out here in the wilderness with him, then something had gone terribly wrong. Bucky pushed the screen door towards the man and stood back. Sam walked into the cabin, his old Air Force rucksack on his back. Bucky stepped out on his porch and looked around. A screech sounded out above him. Red Wing had found purchase in one of the towering trees surrounding Bucky’s home.
Bucky went back into the house and Sam was standing in the middle of his living room lost. “You want a beer?”
Sam shook his head.
“Tea?”
Nothing. No smart-ass remark. No smile.
“Well, sit the fuck down. You’re weirding me out.”
Sam's lips ticked up at that, and Bucky breathed a sigh of relief. He fixed the tea anyway because he didn’t know exactly what to do. He walked over and placed the set on the chest he used as a coffee table. Bucky plopped sugar cubes in the hand-me-down cups he got from the lady at the general store. He kept glancing up at his guest, but Sam was far away. The man sat on the couch stiffly, the strap of the bag still on his shoulder.
Bucky sipped his tea, the crackle of the fire beside him. “You good?” Bucky asked before the silence went on too long and became uncomfortable.
“No,” Sam said, picking up the cup Bucky had made for him. He drank it and turned back to the fire.
“The couch is yours as long as you need it.”
Sam looked at him for the first time since he got there. “Thanks, Man.” And then went back to his thoughts.
Bucky nodded, poured himself another cup, and picked up the novel he had been reading when his proximity sensors had gone off.
-o0o-
Sam had finally gone to sleep. Bucky had been afraid that he would sit up through the night, but the last time Bucky went to refill his glass of water, Sam was slouched over on the wood arm of the sofa. Bucky went over, pulled off Sam’s boots, and spread the blanket over the man. He backed out of the room, blowing out the lantern as he went. Back in his bedroom, he pulled out his laptop.
Bucky pulled up the news and then the chatter boards on the dark web. What he read made him want to put on the black mask again, make them all remember why they feared the asset. He even opened the trunk in front of his bed full of supple black leather and guns so clean they looked new. He looked down into his past, a past he fought hard to break free from, a past Sam helped him break free from. Bucky decided the best thing he could do is stay here with him.
If he happened to send someone to chat with the politician trying to smear Sam’s name he couldn’t be blamed. He should be thanked, it’s a kinder fate than the one the Winter Soldier would have delivered. The guy had created some trumped-up charge that Sam was unworthy because he used to sell drugs as a teenager. Fox News and OAN were calling Sam Snap Wilson. It was a lie and even if it wasn’t it had nothing to do with the life Sam had led most of his life. If Bucky had been judged as harshly he would be in prison or dead. It’s one thing to be a racist piece-of-shit that doesn’t want Sam to be Captain America, and another altogether to use baseless propaganda to turn the country against him. Bucky went back and added another 0 to his offer.
-o0o-
“Where are we going?” Sam asked. They were hiking through the wilderness. Red Wing was zipping in and out of branches above them. Sunlight danced on their faces between the swaying leaves.
“Fishing. Why?” Bucky stepped over his thinking log. “Watch your step.” The man led Sam down a pebbled path to a small pond.
“You, fishing?”
“Don’t get your hopes up. It isn’t the gulf or your parents’ boat.”
“No. It sounds perfect.”
It was perfect. Bucky didn’t do much fishing in the rickety canoe someone abandoned out here. He stuck his pole in the water and picked up a book while Sam tended to both the lines. Bucky watched Sam feed fish to that blasted bird like a baby. He watched the weariness ease out of his broad shoulders and the smile form that had been missing for the past few days.
“What are you reading?” Sam asked when their bucket was full of dinner.
“Pratchett. The Color of Magic. I’m starting Discworld over.”
“Any brothers in it?”
“It's a fantasy. Humans versus trolls. So, yeah. I got a few new Chip Delaney novels. You liked the other one.”
Sam leaned over and snatched one of Bucky’s knives out of his pocket. Bucky glared at him in warning but went back to the words on the page. Sam was cleaning the knife with paper towels and bottled water. The next thing Bucky knew he was being pelted with fish scales. He moved further back into the boat as Sam cleaned and fileted the fish.
“You got anymore Whitehead novels?”
“You read all the ones I got. I read The Changeling. I really liked it. I got The Ballad of Black Tom.”
Sam smiled at Bucky. Bucky ignored the shivers that ran through him. He was good at it now. “Do not dog-ear my copy.”
“You are worse than my high school librarian.”
“You meant that as an insult, but I wear it as a badge of honor.”
Sam snorted. “Hey, man. Do you mind if I stay a few more days? I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
Bucky had to bite his tongue before he said something he couldn’t take back. “You’re such a knucklehead. Stay as long as you need.” Red Wing landed on Bucky’s shoulder. “This bird, however…”
“Leave my baby alone,” Sam said. He reached over and fed Red Wing another piece of fish.
-o0o-
Bucky came out of his bedroom one morning and Sam was asleep on the floor. He went out of the back door to pick some strawberries and spinach for breakfast and when he came back in Sam was sitting on the couch. “You're sleeping on the floor?”
“Yeah.”
“You badgered me for a year until I brought a bed. Some nonsense about deserving the good things in life.”
“Yeah, well…”
“Well, what?”
“Your couch sucks. My back is killing me.”
“Why didn’t you say anything. I’ll take the couch. You take the bed.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.” Sam got up and stretched and pulled on his running shoes. “You're already doing too much letting me invade your quiet place.”
You're my quiet place, Bucky thought, taking out the eggs. “Sam, I don’t care that you're here. It’s been…” Bucky swallowed. “Nice. On bad nights, I still sleep on the floor. So, I can take the couch.”
Sam shook his head and went over to the front door. He opened it and Red Wing squawked. Bucky went back to breakfast when Sam turned. “Or, we could both sleep in the bed.”
-o0o-
Bucky stared up at the ceiling. He felt like he was being pulled into two directions at once. He needed to roll over and go to sleep. He wanted to roll over into the warmth of the man beside him. The stakes were too high to gamble, so he just lay there wishing he could calm down enough to sleep.
“You awake?” Sam asked.
“Yeah.” Bucky cleared his throat.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Do I keep fighting for something no one wants me to have?”
“Steve wanted you to have it. I want you to have it. Pepper and Rhodey want you to have it. Shuri wants you to have it, and most importantly, all the little boys and girls who look up to you, who see themselves in you, want you to have it. No one else matters. You fought for this country in the Air Force, fought Nazis as a civilian, and then fought for the universe as an avenger. If anyone has something to say about it, tell them to come talk to me.”
“Don’t go backsliding, Buck.”
“I’m trying, Pal. I really am.”
“I know. I like your little setup out here.”
Then stay, Bucky thought. “It’s home.”
“It feels like it.”
-o0o-
Bucky’s eyes fluttered open. Sam was staring at him. Bucky yawned. “That isn’t creepy at all.”
“You're letting your hair grow back out,” Sam said, his hand reaching up and carding through Bucky’s hair.
“It’s a pain to keep it cut.” His eyes closed. Waves of feathered bliss radiated from the sweep of Sam’s fingertips. Sam eventually pulled away, and Bucky was forced to look at him again. He was afraid Sam might see the yearning billowing up from his belly in his eyes.
“Would you kill me if I kissed you?” Sam asked.
“I guess you’ll just have to find out.”