Chapter Text
Being stuck in an airplane with Bucky, Zemo, and Walker was not how Sam wanted to spend the day.
And yet, here he was; most of the way through a five hour flight with Bucky in front of him, brooding out the window, and the other two men sitting across the aisle. Walker was glaring daggers at Zemo, who looked nonplussed as he sipped champagne.
“So, Bucky,” Walker began in his high and mighty I-am-Captain-America tone that made Sam want to put his head through a window. “Tell us again why you turned against your country and fought for HYDRA for so long? I guess I just never paid close enough attention in history.”
He was baiting Bucky. Sam clenched his fists and watched Bucky out of the corner of his eye.
“You know damn well why,” Bucky growled.
“Yeah, sure.” Walker waved his hand dismissively. “The whole mind control thing. How did that even work, by the way.”
“It was a rather complicated process,” Zemo chimed innocently. “One I studied for a rather long time. Basically, they wiped his memory and reprogrammed him to be the Winter Soldier. Only the code words controlled him.”
Sam saw Bucky stare straight ahead, retreating into himself.
“Shut up,” he snapped harshly, but Walker was still enjoying tormenting Bucky.
“And what were the code words?”
Zemo smirked. “I’m sure you’ll find little use for them now that he is free.” He said the word like it disgusted him.
“Humor me,” Walker pressed.
“Longing,” Zemo began, the words rolling off his tongue. “Rusted, furnace.”
As soon as the first word was spoken, Bucky froze. Sam saw the beginnings of fear leak into his gaze and felt his own face harden.
“Stop it, Zemo,” he said, his voice darkening with anger.
“Keep going,” Walker sneered. “I want to see how free the Winter Soldier really is.”
Bucky swallowed thickly and his flesh hand had the slightest tremor for the briefest moment, but it was enough for Sam to see red. He surged up and lunged for Zemo. The champagne glass shattered on the floor. Walker stepped between them, but Sam punched him in the nose, sending him reeling to the ground. He pressed his forearm into Zemo’s throat.
“Sam!” Bucky shot to his feet.
“Don’t ever, ever do that again,” Sam hissed into the Baron’s ear. “If you do, you’ll wish you were back in that prison cell. Got it?”
“Y-yes,” Zemo choked. Sam released his grip to spin around and point at Walker.
“And you,” he dropped to one knee. “You may have that shield and wear your fancy costume, parading as a hero, but you’ll never be half the man Bucky is. So back. Off.”
Walker nodded shakily, one hand applying pressure to his bleeding nose.
“Come on, Buck,” Sam grabbed his arm and dragged him to the back of the plane.
Once at the back, Sam pulled the curtain across the doorway to at least create the illusion of privacy.
“What the hell was that, Sam?” Bucky whisper-shouted.
“What do you mean?”
“What do I mean?” Bucky ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up a bit at the top in a way Sam found far too endearing for the current situation. “God, Sam. You can’t just do that.”
Sam crossed his arms, “And why the hell not?”
“For one, we still need Zemo-”
“And we still have him,” Sam said. “Bucky, what is this really about?” When he was met with silence, Sam added more quietly, “They were hurting you, Buck. Was I supposed to just sit by and let that happen?”
“Yes! Maybe,” Bucky shot back.
“No! Bucky, you don’t deserve to be treated like that. You’re a free man, a good man. No one can take that from you, not anymore.”
Bucky shifted. “I’m just… I’m not used to it yet. Not used to…. Kindness.”
Sam’s heart ached. He grabbed Bucky’s hand, “We’re family now, Bucky. You’re gonna have to learn how to put up with a lot more of this kindness stuff.” He let go of Bucky’s hand to bump his shoulder affectionately, earning him one of Bucky’s softer smiles. “Of course, there are other things, too. Like babysitting, taking out the trash, doing the dishes-”
“Okay,” Bucky laughed. “I get it, I get it.”
“Good,” Sam smiled.
“Good,” Bucky repeated, smiling back.
A small chime came from the main cabin.
“Seatbelt sign,” Bucky noted.
Sam sighed. “Guess we have to go back.”
Buck nodded and moved out of Sam’s way so they could return to their seats for landing. Just as Sam passed him, Bucky touched his arm lightly.
“And Sam,” he said. “Thank you.”
Sam patted his hand, “Anytime, Buck.”