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"Sam? Sam! Are you okay?"
Steve's panic voice was getting smaller and smaller. Was it broken or was it just him? It probably was broken. He did fall a good height. Or maybe it was just him because his ear was ringing and his vision was spinning like crazy. He was pretty sure that he was bleeding because of the fall. What he did know for sure was that he had broken bones and, at least, cracked ribs.
The problem was that it was winter and snowing heavily. In 30 minutes, the chances that he would already be buried in snow was pretty high. Or he would be dead because of how much blood he was losing. He was probably sweating even when he was partially covered by snow. His head was pounding, hard and fast.
Just as his consciousness started to fade, he saw someone hovering above him. It felt like he was examining him. Before he could say anything, he was being lifted up and carried away. It was warm. Human heat after all , Sam thought, and he couldn’t help but leaned to it.
He managed to slip out something like, “Wha—?”, before he is being interrupted by a small, “Shh.” The man who was carrying him stopped for a while. He looked like he wanted to put Sam down and ran away. Something must have stopped him because he continued to walk.
All Sam could see before dark invaded his vision was the man’s long hair.
The first thing that hit his senses was the smell of blood. And then everything else hit him in the same moment. The pain in his chest—probably broken ribs. The throb in his head. The feel of bandages on his torso and his left leg.
He was alive.
He hasn’t opened his eyes yet. The darkness behind the lid of his eyes was quite comforting to him. He could hear someone moving near. The sound of a mug being placed on some metal surface. The sound of water flowed down quietly. The sound of something being pulled near him. The sound of something being placed near him. The sound of rustling papers.
That was when he opened his eyes.
The room wasn’t too bright or too dim for his throbbing head. It was cold though and the thin blanket on top of him wasn’t really helpful. He couldn’t quite feel his leg—how long was he out?—and something squishy was placed at his toes. It was comforting.
Before he could process all these things on his body, a hand was placed at his head, brushing his hair from his forehead. Warm . He let himself closed his eyes and leaned into the touch a little.
“At least, you are not cold anymore, huh.”
Sam could feel himself froze at the voice. He had heard this voice before.
He had heard this voice when he was in the hallway of his motel. He had heard this voice before in Canada. He had heard this voice before in a coffee shop the other month. He had heard this voice before in a bakery store somewhere near the facility. He had heard this voice before several times as an avenger, as Sam Wilson, and as the man searching for Steve’s hopefully-ex-HYDRA assassin friend. The voice was familiar, but the person was not.
Sam was pretty sure he had only met him twice. And he was being targeted by him both times.
“Don’t move by yourself,” the man said—grumbled, more accurately—again, helping him awkwardly to move into a sitting position.
Sam glared at him.
“Is this the man himself? Or the soldier?”
The answer he got was a pitiful shrug, almost scared. Sam decided not to comment on it.
Sam kept staring while he was being helped to sit more comfortably for his wounds, being moved around as if he was light—for a supersoldier, he probably was. The man, James Buchanan Barnes, seemed alive in his flesh, actually looked at his eyes this time. He raised his eyebrows.
“What?” he replied. “Your face looks like you just saw a ghost.”
But I am, Sam thought, I am seeing one right now. And what a reassuring thought to have. He was fairly sure he was at a mission that he hadn’t know the ending of, he was dying at this bed—well, maybe not necessarily dying because his wound looked patched up right—, he didn’t know where he was right now, and the man beside him was a brainwashed assassin from HYDRA that went completely missing, off radar, months ago.
Barnes sat back in his chair on the side of the bed Sam was sitting right now. He offered Sam a glass full of water and some pills.
“Painkiller,” Barnes said, explaining the pills. Sam just nodded and drank it. Well, if Barnes really wanted to kill him, he had another more acceptable way to.
At least, Sam hoped.
Barnes took back the empty glass from Sam, disappearing for a minute before coming back with the glass full of water again. He placed it on the table beside the bed.
Sam was confused as hell right now, knitting his eyebrows together as the other man moved around. He didn’t know why Barnes would help him. No, no. The more important question was—
“How the hell did you find me?” The question was out as soon as Barnes sat down again. Sam swore he could see the man lifting up his eyebrows for a second there. But Barnes didn’t answer his question.
The sound of wind blowing softly outside was the only sound that Sam could hear after that. Because Barnes didn’t even bother to answer his question so Sam took the time to examine his surroundings.
It wasn’t a bedroom per se, didn’t have a door to separate the rooms. He could see the kitchen on his right. He could see a table and a chair in front of it. There was another room on the left of the kitchen. Looked like the bathroom.
Sam wondered how Barnes found a place like this to stay.
He was too distracted to realize that Barnes had gone again, only for him to come back with another blanket. At least this one looked thick and warm. Barnes dropped it around Sam's shoulder, careful of his injury. At that very moment, Sam realized that he was not wearing a shirt. The comfortable pants he was wearing right now wasn’t even his.
Sam shot Barnes a look, but he just sat in the chair again.
“Where are my belongings?” Sam asked. Barnes looked at him for a second longer before moving to one of the cabinets in the kitchen and pulled out a box. He put the box at Sam’s lap carefully. Sam waited until Barnes had sat again before he opened the box.
There were his wings, his clothes, his burner phone, and his other mission’s equipment, including the broken comm.
So, it was, indeed, broken.
It dawned on Sam that the team didn’t find him, probably already back in the Avengers Facility. He had a feeling that Steve was panicking right now because Sam was missing.
Before Sam could stop himself, the words were already out of Sam’s mouth. “How is Steve?”
Sam could see Barnes’s body went rigid at the mention of the name, but his face didn’t change that much. “Couldn’t find him,” Barnes replied quietly, “you were bleeding.” He offered Sam a little shrug after that, not elaborating anything and now Sam was left with more questions than answers.
Trying to distract his mind, Sam opened his burner phone, looking through the contacts when the battery died. Sam cursed silently. Judging by Barnes’s current state, there was a bigger chance that the man didn’t have a charger. Well, that went his plans. He flipped the phone then put it back to the box.
“Why do you help me?” Sam asked again despite the lack of explanation every time he shot a question. Barnes looked up from his hands to meet Sam’s eyes. He shrugged again.
“You were bleeding,” he said, like that was a good excuse for someone who has been hiding from them for months and suddenly showing up to save them.
Sam sighed before trying again, “How did you find me?”
This time, Barnes went quiet. He did glance at Sam a few times, but not answering. Sam waited.
“You were— are easy,” he said suddenly, looking anywhere but Sam’s eyes, “not like Steve.”
Sam raised his eyebrows at that. That, that was not something he had expected—it wasn’t even an answer for his question! He didn’t know if he was suspecting something more noble or wicked, honestly.
“Steve?” Sam repeated. “I sure hope this isn’t about the serum.”
Barnes’s eyes went wide. He shook his head rather vigorously.
“Steve.” This time, he looked at Sam. “Steve was— is too much.” He gestured with his hand. “Then I found you.” He looked at Sam again. “You are much more interesting.”
Sam felt like he understood what Barnes was trying to say so he didn’t comment on the statement. Instead, he asked again.
“So that was you?” Sam decided not to give Barnes any context. He knew the man would understand it. “That was you the whole time?”
Barnes went quiet again at that while Sam stared at him, unwavering. He glanced at his hands, at the window, at the box still in Sam’s lap, before answering, “Yes.”
“And what were you doing?” Because Sam was curious about the reason why Barnes did any of that. The reason why Barnes would help him.
Barnes hesitated at that. He looked like he was regretting his actions answering Sam’s question at all, but hell if Sam was going to let him go that easy. After a long time of silence—of Sam looking at Barnes and the latter looking anywhere but him—Barnes answered, “Need to protect someone reckless.”
This time, Sam was the one who went quiet. He stared at Barnes for a while before looking down at his hand. Neither knew how to continue the topic.
They let the silence wash over them.
The snow was still falling rapidly outside when Sam woke up. He thought he had woken himself up with a shout. Maybe that was why, the next second, Barnes was already on his side. He was too focused on evening out his breathing to even complain about Barnes's hands on his back and shoulder. He could feel Barnes rubbing his thumb on the exposed skin.
“I’m okay. I’m alright,” Sam said after his breathing returned normal again. “Just a dream.” Sam felt like he was more talking to himself than to Barnes, but he just nodded like this was a normal occurrence. And perhaps, it was, to him.
Sam didn’t really realize that Barnes had already gone to the kitchen, coming back with a cup of hot tea in his hand.
Nostalgic, Sam thought back to his days spending his time searching for the ghost, just before the mission because it was exactly what Sam always did when he got a nightmare in the middle of the night, or morning. Sam didn’t want to think of it now though. He just accepted the tea and Barnes’s sturdy and warm presence on his right. They sat in silence for a while.
It was nice. The silence. Not awkward. Just comforting.
“How did you know?” Sam asked, breaking it anyways, glancing at Barnes. “You do know me well, don’t you?”
Barnes glanced back at Sam before answering, “You sometimes shout in your sleep.” He took the empty glass from Sam. “Tea helps.” He walked away to the kitchen.
“Yes, it does,” Sam mumbled, knowing fully well that Barnes could hear him. Sam watched him wash the cup and dried it. After it was done, Barnes came back with a glass full of water. He put it on the table beside Sam’s bed. When Barnes started to walk away, Sam tugged on his clothes.
“Stay?” Sam asked timidly, almost whispering. Barnes stared at him for a second before nodding. He sat on the chair beside the bed. When Sam’s consciousness started to fade out, he managed to mumble a small, “Thanks.”, before he closed his eyes. He thought that he saw Barnes smiled a little, but, maybe, that was just the effect of his sleepiness.
Maybe.
When Sam woke up again, the snow was still falling, but the sun had come out. He blinked his eyes once, twice, when Barnes appeared from the corner of his eyes.
"I need to change your bandages and check on your wounds," he said, sittinh on a chair beside the bed Sam was laying on. He helped him to a sitting position and his mouth twitched everytime Sam might made a wrong move, groaning a little.
Barnes went to work in silence. Sam tried not to squirm under his touch, unfamiliar, yet gentle and kind.
When the bandage was opened, Sam couldn’t help but look. The wounds didn’t look that nasty, even the one on his leg, which hurt the most. Barnes put a salve on the wounds then wrapped them with new bandages.
Moving from the bed to the table near to what looked like the kitchen was a rather infuriating task for him. But Barnes was there, a hand on his back and the other hovering on his front, his eyes fixed on him, and he looked more than ready to jump in if necessary but he didn’t make Sam felt like he was an invalid. Sam wanted to walk to the table so Barnes let him, just with supervision, and Sam couldn’t thank him enough for that. He did give a grateful smile towards him though.
Barnes looked surprised before timidly smiling back.
Finally sitting back, Sam let his eyes gazed over the window while Barnes did whatever he needed to do. It was weird, letting himself loose like this with the other man present. Hell, Barnes was unfamiliar, yet he felt safe enough.
Sam felt someone put something on the table and when he looked, it was food. Toast and scrambled egg. He wondered how Barnes made this kind of breakfast in this kind of place. But it’s good, Sam thought as he ate. So he wouldn’t complain.
Barnes took a seat next to him, keeping his eyes firmly on Sam even though he was eating. They both ate in silence before Sam broke it.
“Do you know how the mission went?” Sam asked, rather curiously.
S.H.I.E.L.D. had found a base that was hosting some suspicious acts and sent a team to investigate it. Turned out that the base was more equipped than anyone from the team had expected and Sam was down before he knew it. He wanted to know what happened with the mission.
“Went bad,” Barnes replied slowly while swallowing his food. “Saw some went back injured.”
Sam sighed. Great. They came back with empty hands except injury and Sam was missing. He was pretty sure Steve was panicking right now and making the rest of the team panicked too.
“You do know about this base, right?” Sam decided to ask again. If Barnes didn’t want to answer, it wouldn’t be much of a problem. Sam just wanted to know.
To his surprise, Barnes did answer. “I have been there.”
Sam lifted up his eyebrows, intrigued. “So, you do know it.”
This time Barnes didn’t answer. He went back to his food. But Sam wasn’t going to give up that fast.
“What is this place exactly?”
Sam saw Barnes stole a glance at him before answering, “The remains of HYDRA.”
“…Just that?” Because they all knew that even before they planned out the mission. It was HYDRA or some crazy people with crazy minds. So, yeah, no, it was definitely HYDRA.
“Weapons,” Barnes answered hesitantly. “Guards. Agents. Many of them.”
Sam looked down at his neglected breakfast and shoved a toast to his mouth. He tried to remember the day of the mission before he fell. He did remember a lot of people that were patrolling there, but weapons?
“What kind of weapons?” he decided to ask.
“The normal ones.” Barnes paused after saying that. “And some not normal ones. Better stay out of it.”
Sam definitely did not pout at that. It was like Barnes was reading his mind. He did want to finish the mission before he went back. At least, the mission would be finished and Sam would be back home.
Barnes must have seen the face Sam was making because he was the one who asked this time, “What was your mission?”
Sam was a little surprised at that. He didn’t expect Barnes to be interested in this conversation’s topic. He had been expecting the man to actually deflect it.
Should he believe in Barnes? Barnes did help him, Sam’s mind pointed out, so he may be just a good guy who wanted him to be alive.
“It’s supposed to be a simple one,” Sam carefully answered. “Turned out, no.” Sam picked at his scrambled egg for a second. When the food had entered his mouth, he looked up to Barnes. “We wanted to get their plans and the schedule. Wanted to stop their regular activities slowly.” Sam swallowed his food before he continued, “But too many guards and they probably brought out the weapons.”
Sam saw Barnes nodded and went back focusing on his food. They ate in silence after that. Sam picked on his breakfast again, occasionally swallowing some of it before opting for the tea instead. Some of his wounds were pounding and, fucking hell, they hurt, a lot. Barnes spared him some glances here and there, but never said anything. Sam could be just imagining what hopefully was concern in Bucky’s eyes, but it felt too real to be.
Nevertheless, no one said anything while eating.
“I kinda wanted to finish the mission, you know,” Sam said once they were finished. He was looking out of the window to watch the snow. Barnes looked at him like he had grown a second head.
“You can’t.”
Sam turned to look at Barnes. “Why can’t I?” he asked rather challengingly.
Barnes didn’t even flinch at his tone. He still gave Sam a look.
“You are shot.” Barnes pointed at his stomach. “Your leg.” He pointed at Sam’s bandaged leg. “Probably broken ribs. Definitely hypothermia and blood loss.” Lastly, he pointed to Sam’s head. “Probably concussion.”
This time, Sam definitely did not pout. At all.
“…Fine.”
They went quiet again after that.
That night, Sam woke up with a shout, again. Sometimes, it was like this. A few nights without a single nightmare and then a week full of it. It seemed like it was one of those weeks. This time he was shaking, the dream was still fresh in his mind and it felt too real. Felt like he was back in the Air Force and he had to watch Riley fell, and fell, and fell, and oh, was he falling too? He was. And he couldn’t get up.
Barnes was already by his side the second he woke up and Sam wondered if he slept at all—and if he did, Sam would assume, where? But that wasn’t important now that he was warm and his sturdy arms were around Sam and the humming noise he was making was comforting.
It was nice.
Sam did nothing but cling to Barnes. He felt like a child again, shaking in his mother’s arm. But he didn’t really care when all Barnes did was hugged him tighter and rubbed his back.
Sam woke up slowly that morning.
He didn't remember falling asleep last night after the... Oh. He had a nightmarex hadn't he? Barnes had hugged him, he recalled.
When he tried to stretch his body, he was stopped by an arm around his waist, tightening its hold on him. Sam froze. He could feel a chest on his side, radiating heat. Sam looked at the arm and realized that it was a metal arm. He relaxed a bit, knowing that it was Barnes. Honestly, he was surprised. He never had Barnes this close to him before. This is James Buchanan Barnes, known as the Winter Soldier until last year, had soothed him from his nightmare and went to sleep while hugging him.
He gave up trying to get himself off from the firm hold—Sam also didn’t want to wake him up, the poor man looked like he needed it—, so he stayed. His eyes wandered around to search for a clock. He found nothing. There was no clock.
Sam sighed. He wondered how Barnes could stay in a place like this.
He decided to turn his head to stare at Barnes. The man slept like a rock. Pale, silent, still. If it wasn’t for the slight movement of his chest, Sam would assume he was dead. His face did look more peaceful this way, the usual heaviness aura around him gone.
Finally having a silent moment and being the only one who was awake, Sam forced his brain to think.
This whole situation was weird and overwhelming for Sam. That accident on the mission definitely brought back some bad memories and nightmares. He was reminded of Riley, falling at that horrendous night. That accident also brought him to Barnes, who was hiding himself from Steve and the world, he guessed. The same accident also brought him on this bed, with Barnes being a warm blanket—not that Sam was complaining.
Sam had to go back to the compound as soon as possible. As he had guessed before, Steve was probably panicking right now that Sam was missing after that horrible mission. If possible, he also wanted to finish the mission first before coming back. Right now, he couldn’t because the snow was still pouring heavily outside and Sam was not in a perfect condition. It might take a while, which wasn’t good.
Just as Sam was predicting how long it would take for his injuries to heal, Barnes started to move beside him. Not long after that, he opened his blue eyes and stared at him. Sam stared back. He was too scared to break the silence. He was comfortable just staring in silence right now.
“Mornin’,” Bucky croaked out, blinking his eyes a few times before yawning. He slipped his arm off Sam’s waist casually, went out of the bed, and stretched his body before walking to the kitchen.
Sam was quiet. He just stared at Barnes the whole time, still trying to wrap the fact that Barnes had cuddled him all night long around his head. Sam turns his body to the side to see Barnes working at the kitchen. He was still exhausted from last night beside the fact that he was already asleep for like 8 hours at least.
“Go to sleep again,” Barnes said suddenly like he was reading Sam’s mind. He stopped doing whatever he was doing and turned to look at Sam. “It’s still too early for you to wake up.”
Sam made a humming noise, showing that he had heard that and went to close his eyes. He was already asleep when Barnes went to his side and stroke his forehead softly.
"Do you think I could reach Steve? Just to let him know I'm safe."
Barnes stared at him in horror.
What a good way to start a morning conversation over a nice meal, Sam thought, already regretting his decision a bit. He had been fidgeting with the idea the whole morning, when Barnes changed his bandages and then served breakfast. When the brunette opened his mouth, Sam quickly put his hand up, silencing him.
“I know the answer already just by looking at your face,” Sam said, mouth full of scrambled egg. Barnes stared at him for a second before going back to his meal. Sam shut his mouth, Barnes still didn’t comment anything, and the breakfast went with silence.
Sam didn’t even realize he was sulking until Barnes pointed it out. He took Sam’s plate while staring at him.
“Don’t pout,” he said, a bit monotone, though Sam could notice his mouth twitched into a smirk. Sam looked at him in surprise, the pout leaving his face. Barnes stared back at him before walking away to wash the dishes while Sam watched, head resting in his hand.
“This house is near the base,” Barnes said suddenly, surprising Sam again. The brunette was staring at him, putting the plates on the rack. He leaned on the countertop while Sam fidgeted with his hands, suddenly uncomfortable.
Barnes sighed at the sight of him, sparing him by looking away, busying himself with anything in the kitchen. “I can’t risk sending signals that the base can catch easily,” he continued, pulling out two tea bags and a kettle pot. “I can’t risk your presence here getting known by them, Sam. It would be bad for you.”
Sam didn’t expect that at the very least. His fidgeting had stopped. He stared back at Barnes instead, at the man who probably knew everything about him through the files, who said his name with ease as if he knew Sam well, as if he was comfortable by him, at the man who forced him to get out from his peaceful way of living here, saving Sam instead.
“I—” Sam paused. The situation dawned on him slowly, heaving his shoulders and chest. He was stuck here with Barnes until he healed, or at least until the snow stopped and it seemed like it wouldn’t happen so soon. “I understand.” He hoped he didn’t sound as choked as he felt.
A cup of tea was placed on the table in front of him, the smell calming him already. Sam just stared at it while Barnes took a seat in front of him, just like breakfast.
“Do you?” Barnes asked after sipping his own tea quietly. Sam looked up and found those blue eyes already searching for his brown ones. “I mean, it’s okay if you don’t. I know this is hard for you,” Barnes blurted out and Sam could feel the panic on his face. He didn’t realize a small smile bloomed on his face. Barnes saw it eventually, hiding his own with his cup. He drank the whole content before standing up, heading towards the door.
“Where are you going?” Sam asked him when Barnes was struggling with wearing his coat.
“I guess you weren't yourself yesterday, huh. I do this everyday.” Sam mock-gasped at that. He did remember the morning, excuse you.
“Don’t worry, just waking around the perimeter,” Barnes explained finally. He was pulling the hood up when Sam beamed.
“Can I join you?”
“No.”
Sam winced at that. It was a rather cold and straight-forward rejection. He didn’t want to give up though.
“Why? I can walk just fine.”
A frown made its way to Barnes’s face while Sam was preparing himself for the answer. He probably wouldn’t like it.
“...You shouldn’t even be here,” Barnes grunted. He went to open the front door. Sam could feel the cold air slipping in slowly to the room. He didn’t say anything. Barnes didn’t say anything.
When the door was closed again, Sam went to stare at nothingness.
What the hell was that supposed to mean?
Sam shouldn’t be there? Sam didn’t want to be there. It wasn’t him who chose to be with Barnes.
It wasn’t fair.
He stared at the door, wondering how long it would take for Barnes to come back. So he moved to the bed, not knowing what to do. What was he supposed to do? Sam took a look at his surroundings. There was a bookshelf there, with a decent amount of books. Barnes’s taste in books isn't that bad, Sam concluded as he went through the titles.
Suddenly, the front door opened loudly. It hasn’t even been five minutes yet since Barnes left, Sam predicted. In instinct, Sam crouched down. He gritted his teeth when he felt a flash of pain went through his leg and ribs.
“Sam.” He knew the voice. When he stood again, relief seemed to flood on Barnes’s eyes while Sam was more busy thinking about how that was the first time Barnes had ever called him by his name.
It shouldn’t feel right. Sam should feel threatened by this man who he has never introduced himself to, who had known his whole identity while Sam searched for him.
“That fast? Do you want to pee so badly?” Sam joked, trying to ease the tension that began to creep over Barnes as the relief started fading. It didn’t work. Barnes just took big strods towards him, his eyes determined.
Sam didn’t expect the, “I’m sorry.”, rolling off Barnes’s mouth.
“What? Why?”
Barnes hesitated. Sam could see that he was nervous at this conversation, but he didn’t understand why all of a sudden he asked Sam for his forgiveness.
Well, there was actually a lot to be forgiven. Exhibit a: Ripping the steering wheel out of Sam’s hands when he was driving. Exhibit b: Ripping his wings off. Exhibit c: Kicking him out to fall without wings to support him.
To be fair, that was the Winter Soldier, not Barnes.
“I didn’t mean it.”
Another one sentence. Sam sighed tiredly. It felt like he was in the VA again, coaxing the story out of his clients. Except that Barnes wasn’t his client, he was—
What was Barnes for Sam?
“I can’t read minds, just so you know. So please do elaborate.”
Barnes’s metal hand was twitching, Sam realized. Still out of nervousness, Sam realized.
“Can I touch you?” With a timid nod of permission, Sam rested his hand on top of Barnes’s. “Relax, alright?” he requested again. Barnes took a deep breath and exhaled it harshly.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said before,” Barnes repeated his words, now calmer.
“The ‘I shouldn’t be here’ shit?” Sam could feel he flinched at his guess.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Barnes tried to explain. His face was still as cold as usual, but it looked softer now, like he was trying so hard to get his point across. “You shouldn’t be here in this place. You should have been with your … friends.” He made a vague gesture at the end of his sentence there. “You should have been safe.”
Safe?
Sam never thought of safe. He was Falcon now, he wasn’t safe all the time. He could fall mid air because of wings malfunction—and how he had been so close just a few days ago—, he could be killed in a mission. Living in the facility provided some safety when he wasn’t working, but Sam wasn’t the type of person to fuss so much about it before.
“Need to protect someone reckless.”
He realized that Barnes was trying to keep him safe.
The gesture touched him more than he thought was possible.
“Thank you, Barnes,” Sam said, smiling a little. “I appreciate it.” He pat Barnes’s hand once again before taking it back, trying to ignore how the brunette’s eyes gazed over it.
Barnes hummed. Despite the lack of response, Sam could see his face seemed lighter than before. He blinked at him twice then took a step back.
“I’ll be going then,” Barnes murmured, already turning to the door. When it was shut once again, Sam just stood there, mesmerized.
Barnes came back in the middle of his walk to apologize to him. Barnes said his name. Sam said his name. They touched.
He felt he shouldn’t be this excited by the progress. But he would be lying if he said he didn’t.
"'Need to protect someone reckless', what was that about?"
Barnes turned his head towards him, weighing the answer. His grip on the knife nearly faltered. Sam stared at him back.
“It’s you,” Barnes replied, trying to sound casual. He went back to slicing the apple on his hand, putting the freshly cut pieces on Sam’s plate. He eyed the apple pieces before he decided to pop one to his mouth.
“Yeah, I kind of have figured that out already,” Sam shot back, but Barnes didn’t even bat a single glance towards him, his motion continuous.
The silence stretched between them. It was a normal occurrence now. But Sam was determined to fish out some answers from Barnes.
“Did you want to tell me,” Sam munched another piece of apple from the plate, “that you intervened with my mission without me knowing, Barnes?”
It was the only logical explanation for Sam. In the period where he was searching for ‘the ghost’, he had missions that went too well, he had exploration where he was supposed to die but he didn't, he was injured less. But the searching part never went well, even when Natasha helped him. They may had had some sightings, but never concrete evidence.
“I help you to not die,” Barnes said without missing a single beat, confirming Sam's suspicion. But he said it with such ease, Sam was surprised. Barnes didn’t even look away from the apple he was cutting.
Sam sighed. Right, he could deal with this.
“Barnes, as much as I appreciated your help, I need more explanation than that—”
“Puerto Rico, tenth October, you nearly open your hotel door to a HYDRA agent. I disposed ‘em.”
Sam blinked at him a few times, surprised by the tone of the voice the news was delivered. Determined. He didn't have the nerve to interrupt when Bucky continued.
"Canada, fifteen December, some HYDRA agents were trying to hijack your team’s mission. Disposed too.
"Iowa, third January, Romanoff missed an agent, sniper, targeting your head. Disposed again.”
Sam was almost bewildered at the mention of Natasha. It just made him miss the facility more.
“Chile, twenty fifth March, you nearly died.” Barnes seemed to choke on his own sentence. “A bullet wound on your stomach, you were choked.”
That day, Sam remembered, was a rather bad day. It was supposed to be a clear building, but somehow a HYDRA agent slipped from his heat sensor. He was sure he would faint from the pain before the agent was blown a step back, injured, allowing him to get away from there.
He never thought twice about it.
"I supposed I don't have to ask what you do to this agent, do I?" Sam asked.
Barnes, slowly and carefully, shrugged, confirming Sam's suspicion. His posture was tense, his knife movement suddenly slow and deliberate, eyes searching for Sam’s—who was staring back at him—occasionally, unsure of how he would react.
“Barnes, you know when I was still searching for you, I am not an official member of the Avengers, right?” Sam asked, emphasizing each word. “Therefore, I didn’t have full access to the facility or equipment like I do now. I was just a man, travelling and laying low.”
“It’s dangerous.” The words were accompanied with a too loud sound of Barnes slashing a new apple in two, making Sam jump a little bit. It made Sam stared at him, a little surprised, more so when he realized that Bucky was grumbling to himself quietly.
“Was it difficult for you? Dealing with,” Sam trailed off suddenly, gesturing vaguely to Barnes, hoping the man would understand his point, “and finding out about me, and constantly saving my reckless ass?”
The wrinkle in Barnes’s eyes was probably the closest to laughing that Sam would have ever gotten from him. He couldn’t stop himself for letting out a triumphant smile.
“I got your— wait here,” Barnes mumbled, putting down the knife and the apple and went to the bookshelf, pulling out a what looked like a case file from one of the shelves, in between books. Sam threw him a curious look when the file was put down in front of him. Slowly, he pulled out a hand to pick it up and opened it to see what was inside.
The first thing he saw was a photo of him and his name written in big letters. Sam threw another look to Barnes.
“HYDRA has your files, your personal information, your military past, something about your wings, almost everything,” Barnes explained, again, looking nervous. “I took it with me when I broke out of there.”
Sam read the passages there, only to confirm what Barnes had said. It was almost perfect with the photos and the explanation.
“Rather terrifying considering HYDRA probably still has the digital one,” Sam commented, closing it with a tired sigh.
Barnes blinked at him, putting another slice of apple to his plate. “They don’t.”
“What?”
“HYDRA doesn’t have yours anymore.”
At the questioning look Sam gave, Barnes elaborated, “I destroyed their data bank of the Avengers and their friends.”
This new information just made Sam question things more. How did Barnes get out of HYDRA? How did Sam know Barnes had gotten out of HYDRA? Why did Barnes keep Sam’s data?
“How do I know you are not HYDRA anymore?”
The question made Bucky tilt his head a bit, like a confused cat.
“I have spent my time destroying any kind of HYDRA bases and the people.” When Sam didn’t say anything back, Barnes took a bunch of files and a hard drive from the shelf, handing them to Sam. “Their past plans and schedule, members, weapons, that stuff.”
Sam took it carefully, fumbling with the hard drive for a second before stashing it to the side. He didn’t have the equipment to check it, so maybe later.
“You can take it back with you, if you want,” Barnes said, as if he could read Sam’s mind.
Reassured for now, Sam nodded and opened the file. Giving it a quick read, what Barnes said seemed true enough.
So, instead of lashing out another questions to Barnes, like he wanted to, Sam popped in another slice of apple to his mouth, stood up, and held his hand out to him.
“Time for proper introduction then. I’m Samuel Thomas Wilson, you?”
Barnes stood there, looking at his face, then his hand, then his face again, gaping like a fish, at loss on how to react. Sam patiently kept his hand there, waiting for the man to catch up.
“James Buchanan Barnes,” the brunette finally said, regaining his voice back and gripped Sam’s hand firmly, almost eager, “Bucky Barnes.”
“Bucky then,” Sam said, just as eager as Bucky was, practically grinning. He tried not to think over how warm Bucky’s hand was by chewing another slice of apple when he sat back.
“I worked at the VA. Now an Avenger.” Sam held out his case file—keeping the rest to himself—back to Bucky, who tossed it back to the shelf. “I’m sure you know I was a pararescue in the military.”
Sam raised his eyebrow at Bucky, making the man threw another confused look at him.
“Have anything to share about yourself?”
Judging by Bucky’s expression, the man was still confused as to what to say.
“Well then, I’ll go first,” Sam hummed as he thought of something to share, “I have a sister and a brother. Both who I love very dearly. My father was dead when I was still a child, but my mom is a very lovely madam.”
At the mention of his family, Bucky’s mouth quirked up a bit. Sam took a bit of pride in it.
“I,” Bucky paused, seemed like he was thinking it over, “I remember Becca, my sister.”
Sam beamed at him. “That’s great. Anything else you remember?”
Bucky looked down to his hand, to the knife he was still holding. “My ma and my pa. Bits of it.”
After Sam hummed to let Bucky know he heard him, a comfortable silence once again fell over them. Though, this time, it didn’t last long.
“So may I know why you…” Sam trailed off, hands giving a vague gesture, “...took an interest on me?”
Bucky glanced at him, acknowledging the question, but didn’t open his mouth to answer. Instead, he continued cutting down the last apple, filling Sam’s plate once again while Sam stared at it a little weirdly. That was probably the third apple for today. Sam suspected that Bucky was cutting it just for Sam and didn’t have any intention to help him with it.
Sam didn’t miss the spark in his eyes when he ate it though so, for now, he didn’t say anything.
“You catch my eyes,” Bucky said, carefully putting out each word. He finally put the knife down to the sink, not cutting down a fourth apple with it, too distracted to answer Sam’s question. He seemed so confused himself even further by that answer.
Sam sighed. How was he going to coax some answers from the man? Maybe he shouldn't have pushed him.
But Bucky suddenly continued, “It was nothing at first.” Sam looked up at him, chewing the apple inside his mouth slower now. “But I felt like I got pulled into you again and again. I kept coming back to see how you were doing and it … settled something in me.”
He finished his sentence quietly, looking away from Sam, as if he was embarrassed. Sam himself was stunned. He didn’t expect that kind of answer.
“Bucky,” Sam said, mapping out his words slowly, “I want you to know that if we are going to be stuck here forever, the term ‘friends’ is going to be nice.”
The term made Bucky look at him again, giving Sam the courage to continue. “Can we? Be friends, I mean.”
Slowly, Bucky nodded, maybe eager. Sam hoped he was eager. He smiled at his confirmation. He might have looked like a maniac, thinking of it, but, whatever, he was happy and maybe, relieved.
“And because we are friends, I want you to know that we can learn more about each other and, hopefully, ourselves, okay? Still good to you?”
Bucky nodded again, more energized this time. “That’s great,” he grunted out, shyly.
Sam was sure he was beaming now.
“That’s great,” Sam repeated. Before it could turn awkward, Sam pushed his plate, still full of apple slices, to the center of the table.
“Now you want to help me finish this apple or not?”
When Sam could see Bucky grinned, slowly but surely, as a reply, he felt like he had won something.