Chapter Text
The box comes with a message.
"Hello Sam," Shuri says on the recording, smiling brightly like she knows the punchline to the joke that is his life, "your favorite broken white boy asked me to build this for you, hope it fits right. The wings are integrated into the suit, so you no longer have to worry about a clunky backpack. It's got a little digital assistant all set up, let me know if you want to change the voice.
Oh, and let me know what you think about the new and improved Redwing. It can serve as a personal transport if you need to go a little farther than your wings will take you.
Have fun, and consider this a gift, in exchange for helping save the world. No debt between us, Captain."
He sighs and carefully takes out the single arm brace that, if activated, turns into a full suit the way T'Challa's necklace does. It's sleek, easily recognizable as Wakandan technology if one knows what to look out for. The color scheme is a slightly garish red, white and blue, of course. Shuri probably thinks that's funny.
Underneath, there's Redwing. He looks nearly the same, but somehow almost alive, like something is pulsating, shimmering under the metal skin. Sam takes him out.
"Hey, little buddy. Did the nice scientist lady take good care of you?" He's occasionally talked to Redwing like this, like it's a pet. It has never talked back before, but now it beeps at him and hovers excitedly in the air.
Sam sighs. "Alright then, let's go save the world, again."
+
Sam likes being a hero. He likes being able to do things others can't, he loves flying so much it gutted him when he couldn't do it anymore, and he enjoys seeing the world become a slightly better place because he's in it. After Riley's death, for a while, things were pretty bleak, but it was the easiest choice in the world to pick those wings back up to help Captain America.
Steve's gone, and Sam still doesn't quite understand why he left. Bucky probably does, but Bucky doesn't talk much about Steve. Sam wonders if Steve asked him to go back to the past with him, wonders if Bucky chose to stay around and why he would have done such a thing. His amends, perhaps. Maybe Bucky couldn't see himself have any kind of peace with so many people still hurting from what the Winter Soldier had done.
Sam snorts and shakes his head. Thinking about Bucky when he should be thinking about taking up that shield and what it's going to mean.
He activates the suit and within seconds he's looking at Captain America in the mirror.
Fuck.
It's a lot. He looks at Redwing and wonders if it's fully voice activated. "Hey Redwing, let's go downstairs."
In his headset, a small voice that sounds suspiciously like Bucky answers him with unusual deference. "Yes, Captain."
Sam can't help but laugh.
+
He says goodbye to Sarah like a good brother and she looks at him with the same eyes he always thought were judging him. She's smiling, but she doesn't look happy about it.
"You do good out there, you hear me," she says, kissing his cheek, "just make sure you come back to us, alright? I don't need a dead hero in the family."
He kisses the top of her head and it's a testament to the seriousness of the situation that she lets him. The hug lasts a long time, time he's starting to think he doesn't have, as the AI keeps pushing intel into his field of vision. "Sarah, I have to go."
+
Redwing turns into a pod that goes faster than anything Sam's ever flown and it's glorious. If he yells at the sky like he owns it, screaming his joy into the night, no one but the AI is there to know.
+
Over Washington they get the message.
I'm about to do something stupid. Get to the GRC summit ASAP. We're in the 113th floor.
+
Sam is going to kill that man.
+
He's only marginally worried because Bucky knows his shit and he's tough as nails. There isn't a lot that can take down a super soldier with that much battle experience. And he has that arm. He's going to be fine. Sam's sure he's going to be fine.
"Redwing, let's go a little faster, okay?"
"Speed is at 90% of safety limit."
Sam bites his lip. Bucky's going to be fine. "Fuck safety limits. Go as fast as you can."
+
There are riots in the streets, not just in New York, but everywhere. People are airing their frustration with a world that denies personhood to so many and lends it to capital instead. They're angry, and tired, and normal, and people. Sam can't help with any of that, not the way he wants to, so he has to keep going and help where he will make a difference.
The summit building is surrounded, both on the street level and in the air. Helicopters are circling like carrion flies and large spotlights have been brought out, bathing the entire block in unnatural brightness. He lands the pod on a neighboring building and deactivates travel mode. Redwing pops up in front of him, chirpy and excited.
"Thanks for the ride," Sam says, fighting the urge to pet the thing on its head.
+
Redwing hovers at his shoulder as he darts through the remaining shadows to find a way inside. The top of the building is lit up like a christmas tree, so that's a no-go, but there's some open windows around the middle. He drops down into an abandoned office, searchlights periodically shining inside like artificial lightning in a bottle.
The whole floor is empty.
He sends Redwing to find him the fastest, safest path upstairs, when the AI pushes a transmission onto his interface. It's Karli again, but this time it appears to be live, or something close to it, because she's walking around a meeting room that looks like a cut rate evil lair for world domination, and one of her henchmen has a gun to Bucky's head.
He's alive. Relief hits Sam like a freight train.
"What are you doing, you brave little toaster?" Sam says, wanting to hug him and punch him in the face in equal measure.
Two of Karli's people are holding Bucky down, and it looks like they're struggling quite a bit. He's writhing with anger.
Then Karli speaks and Sam knows he's running out of time.
+
"I know, I know, I promised I would start with the men and women of the council, but, we've had a little bit of a surprise guest here and I wouldn't be a good host if I didn't give him the chance to die first.
Meet the Winter Soldier. If you've ever wondered how it's possible that the world has gone so bad so quickly and never seems to get any better, this guy right here is the answer. For seventy years he's been killing agents of change and hope and replaced them with corporate shills, Nazis and fascists of all stripes. He's helped turn this world into what it is, and I'm sure some of you out there want to see him pay for that."
+
Sam breaks into a run.
+
Karli grabs Bucky's hair and pulls his head up, showing his face to the camera, and that bastard has the audacity to grin at her. There's blood on his teeth, running down his nose like a waterfall. Sam runs, following Redwing's path, and never takes his eyes off the video.
There's more monologuing that Sam filters out, concentrating on his way up. He finds a broken elevator, shaft empty and lit up with construction lamps, that will take him all the way to the top floor. He pops out his wings and flies.
That's when Karli says his name. "Sam, if you're watching this, sorry that we have to do this. I know he's like your little puppy, but sometimes you have to teach a dog not to pee on the carpet, you know?"
+
Sam is aware, at the back of his mind, that he's being exactly as stupid as Bucky was, and that there are probably better ways to do this, but he doesn't have time for tactics. He bursts into the council chambers like a bat out of hell. He barrels through several flag smashers and collides with the guy holding the gun. Everything happens so fast that later Sam won't be able to recall exactly how it got to that point.
And then time slows to a crawl as the gun goes off.
Sam whips around just as Bucky hits the ground and there's definitely blood. The bullet hit something and Sam hopes desperately that it wasn't that stupid fucking cyborg brain. He scrambles forward, trying to get to Bucky and dodges another bullet.
"We're being shot at," the AI says helpfully and Sam curses under his breath.
"Can you, like, scan him for injuries. That would be really helpful!"
Data begins to accumulate on the right side of his interface. Broken bones, lacerations, a bullet wound - superficial - at the temple, some internal damage, but nothing the serum can't handle. Fuck. Okay. Good. Sam flips around to concentrate on the fight. The three flag smashers around him are not great fighters and they haven't ever dealt with someone who can just flip into the air like Sam can. He's quicker now, with the new wings, and the shield is a bulwark against pretty much any bullet. He tosses it at the guy with the gun and there's a satisfying crack when it hits him.
The other two are reaching for their weapons but Sam won't have it. He launches himself at the two of them, flies between them with wings out, taking both of them down with a thwack. They hit the ground hard and he's pretty sure he can get his wings to be edged weapons if he wanted. He doesn't, but it's good to know the option is there. When they're fighting something a little more monstrous.
Bucky groans like he's coming up from a bad night of drinks and debauchery and Sam tries to ignore the little twinge that he feels. No time for that kind of thing, now or ever.
And then Bucky falls into a battle stance like it's the easiest thing in the world and Sam can see some of the Winter Soldier in it, but there's something else, too. As banged up and bloody as Bucky is, he looks lighter somehow, like some of the weight he always carried is gone.
He smiles at Sam like he's the best thing he's ever seen. "Hey Sam," he says, putting all of the same flirtatious energy in it that he's brought out in Louisiana. "You realize you just flew highspeed into a trap, don't you?"
Sam grins back. He feels lighter, too, now that Bucky is up and ready to kick some flag smasher ass. "Yep. Couldn't let you be stupid all by yourself."
Bucky laughs and puts his back to Sam's, the two of them staring down the entire council chamber. The heat of Bucky's body grounds Sam and makes him feel near invincible. "Ready?"
Sam can feel Bucky nod. "Anytime."
+
It goes like this.
They're good together. They're good enough that they can engage Karli and her people to a standstill and Bucky has one of Karli's closest Lieutenant's in a chokehold. Sam thinks that's enough to calm the situation down to talk, but Karli is pretty far gone. She grabs one of the hostages and holds her up by the neck.
"Let him go," she spits, fury burning in her eyes.
Sam looks at Bucky, who nods and loosens his hold, but doesn't release the man entirely. That's when everything goes boom.
+
When Sam wakes up, he looks into Bucky's panicked eyes and begins to feel, gradually, every bruise and injury he's just acquired in the explosion. Bucky's eyes are wide and his metal hand is running just this side of too hot for human skin. He's cradling Sam's neck. "Hey," Bucky says, "I may have forgotten to tell you about the French guy with the military arsenal."
Sam laughs and it hurts. "Yeah, maybe you should have mentioned that! Where are we?" He tries to sit up but Bucky won't let him.
"Stay down. Walker showed up and right now, I don't think anyone's noticed that we're gone."
Sam looks around, they're in a darkish corner, a table artfully draped to give them some cover. He can hear the sound of battle. "We can't just let them kill each other," Sam says, and a second later, "or any of the hostages."
Bucky bites his lip and cocks his head. "I mean, we could, it's not a big loss, they're all terrible people."
Sam grins. "Are you just saying that because you're worried about me getting hurt?" He's pretty sure he's got this one right and Bucky rubs the back of his neck, looks away. Oh yeah, that one hit a nerve. His Winter Soldier is flustered.
Bucky still has a hand on Sam's chest and it feels like a brand. "Sam, listen, I-" Bucky starts, but then there's another explosion and he covers Sam with his body to shield him from debris. It's honestly pretty cute. Sam has the shield, it's not like he needs a human shield, too. But it's kind of nice. He puts his free hand on Bucky's shoulder.
"We need to do something."
It's not a request, and he can see that Bucky is ready to yield, but there is something holding him back. "Wait. I need to tell you something. I've been working on myself like we talked about and I have absolutely no idea what kind of person I am, or want to be, really. But I know that I want to find out by your side."
Then he makes the most Bucky move possible and catapults himself into the fray before Sam has any chance to process that or think of an answer.
+
The answer is yes.
+
The battle is brutal, but they've gone up against Thanos, they've died fighting an impossible enemy. This is nothing. Bucky is pulling some of his punches and that puts them a little on the defensive, but so is Sam. He knows the two of them together could easily kill everyone in this room. The fact that they're not is important. The fact that they're not is what makes them heroes.
Walker and Batroc are down for the count, the flag smashers all smashed up, and now it's just Karli, but she has gotten her fingers on something that makes Sam's skin crawl.
It's a grenade, but it looks a little like Tony Stark's arc reactor.
"Don't come any closer," she says, one hand holding up the little glowy death ball, the other holding her stomach. She's breathing hard. She's terrified, angry, ready to become a martyr. Sam holds up his hands, trying to look as unthreatening as possible. He retracts the wings with a thought.
"Karli, hey, you don't want to do this."
Karli laughs. "I really do. Do you think I care if it kills me? I'd die gladly if it helps change the world." Her voice is a knife-edge.
Sam takes a deep breath, shaking his head. "But what kind of world can we build on this?" He makes a sweeping gesture to encompass the room. "There's nothing good that comes from this kind of violence."
"Resistance works, no matter how bloody, and you should know that. Your people have struggled so long and so hard, and every last bit of that progress came from blood."
Sam shakes his head, not to dismiss her, but as a way to convey how simplistic that is. He laughs a little. "Sure, yeah, we fought, sometimes with weapons, sometimes with bare hands, sometimes with words and ideas. And it's never easy. Power doesn't cede itself without a struggle, not ever. But if there is no difference between what you're doing and what they are, the way they look at life as a resource and at certain people as simply an inconvenience, then the world you create will just have different masters."
"Well, maybe we should get a turn!" There are tears running down her face. "Look at these people, Sam, they were treating us like cattle!"
Of course, Karli is right, but sometimes being right doesn't make you just.
"Please, Karli. We can find another way. Look at your people. Look at them, they're willing to kill and die for you. Is that what you want for them? Is that your legacy? Sending people to their deaths for your vengeance?"
Sam can tell he's getting through to her, or maybe it's the way she's pale and shaky and clearly hurt worse than she looks. But she's lowering her arm, her whole body nearly collapsing into itself, and Sam sees it a moment too late, the trickle of blood running from Karli's mouth and the way her eyes have gone unfocused and glassy. She's dropping to her knees, breathing heavily, and her arm curls down, hand slack, grenade rolling down in terrifying slow motion.
Before Sam can react, Bucky is sprinting forward, reaching down and grabbing the grenade with his metal arm, heading for the nearest window. There's no way to open those, definitely not in time, and Sam knows before it happens that Bucky is about to jump through like an idiot with a death wish.
Sam doesn't think. His wings pop out and he pushes his new suit to the limit, flying faster than he should under any other circumstance, but he's there a split second after the glass shatters and Bucky begins to plummet to the ground. He swoops down and grabs Bucky around the waist, pulls him close and pushes up, up, up.
"Throw it," Sam yells, "do it now."
+
Sam has his arms around Bucky and Bucky is holding on tight, very tight. Sam can feel him shake just a little bit.
He laughs. "You're an idiot. Don't tell me you're afraid of heights."
Bucky's grip on Sam's body doesn't ease one bit. "I wasn't really thinking about it just now."
Sam wishes he could see Bucky's face. "Don't ever think about doing something like this again, Bucky."
Bucky turns his head just so and when he speaks, Sam can feel his breath on his neck. "I promise."
+
The aftermath is ugly and political and nothing Sam has any power over, but it helps that Karli's people never stopped the broadcast, and everyone knows exactly what happens. The world is a little bit more on fire than it was this morning, but Walker and Batroc are both in custody, and Sam is trying to argue that the flag smashers are now superpowered entities and fall under the Sokovian Accords. As such, they could work off their debt to society by helping save the world. And after the disaster that was the failed defense against Thanos, UN oversight are giving the Avengers Initiative a lot more slack.
Bucky is helping the hostages and he's charming and gentle and clearly beaten to hell and back. Sam walks over and tries his best to be unobtrusive.
"Bucky," he says, the sound somewhere between a tease and a question. "I think we should go home."
Bucky sighs and gets up, dusts himself off, which is completely pointless because a house literally fell on him. It feels like that was hours ago. "Alright, we can crash at my place, and then tomorrow, I'll take you to the airport."
Sam rolls his eyes and tries again. He puts both his hands on Bucky's shoulders. "No. Listen. Come home with me, Bucky."
The slow-dawning smile on Bucky's face is easily the most beautiful thing Sam has ever seen. The kiss surprises Sam, quick as it is, and gone again far too soon. Bucky leans back, a question in his eyes, something not unlike terror lurking somewhere deep down.
Sam grins. "Took you long enough."
He puts his hand on Bucky's neck and pulls him into another kiss, a real one this time.