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Bucky sighed, leaning his head against the window. It felt like if they weren’t fighting people, they were on a plane. If they weren’t running for their lives, they were running towards the next fight.
Life wasn’t all that different now after all.
He closed his eyes. That wasn’t true. He was free now, he couldn’t be forced to do anything.
But the ghost of Zemo’s hand on his chin still made him shake.
He will do anything you want.
Fuck. He opened his eyes, bouncing his leg. He wanted to get off this fucking plane.
Sam was sitting across from him, looking at his phone. Zemo was walking around, doing whatever the fuck he did.
Bucky’s fingers itched to bring out his book. To read over the names. But he knew if he did, Sam would notice. And he didn’t want to talk right now.
He tried to look out the window again, but it was dark. He wished he had a phone like Sam’s. He could actually read stuff on it, or play a game. Bucky’s phone was shit.
He will do anything you want.
Bucky shook his head.
He had been fine when they’d been on the ground. When they’d been talking, and running, and chasing a lead. He’d even been fine when they first got on the plane, when he’d checked on Sam, and cleaned his arm.
But now, when Sam was relaxed in front of him, and there was nothing to do but think, and remember , and relive -
He will do anything you want.
It wasn’t true - he wasn’t… he was free now. He ran his hand over his chin, rubbing away Zemo’s fingers. No one was ever going to touch him without his consent again. He just had to- he just had to fucking-
He will do anything you want.
He squeezed his eyes shut, pushed his face against the window.
On your knees, soldier.
Open your mouth.
Do as you're told, or I’ll put you in the chair.
“Hey, man, you good?” Sam’s voice cut through the memories.
Bucky sat back, his eyes snapping open. Sam was watching him with concern.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” He pushed his hand over his mouth. He was fine. It was over. It was over it was over-
“Ah, did I take it too far?” Zemo asked, stopping beside Sam’s chair. “I had a feeling you wouldn’t like me touching you, but I also knew it was one of the perks she would have enjoyed. Unfortunately, getting her to talk was worth more than your feelings.”
Bucky shook his head, “it’s fine,” he said, turning away. He grabbed the arm rests, felt one of them start to give.
“What’s fine?” Sam asked, “what am I missing here?”
“Nothing.” Bucky said, staring blankly at the window.
“It appears that our interaction in front of Selby has brought up some unfortunate memories for James.” Zemo said, “I do apologize, I was only trying to-”
“Shut up,” Bucky snapped. “I said it was fine.”
The armrest gave out underneath his hand. Bucky dropped the useless metal to the floor.
“Yeah, you look fine,” Sam said. “Look, is this about beating up those guys?”
“No, it wasn’t that,” Zemo said. “It was after, when I touched his chin-”
Bucky stood up, shouldering past Zemo and walking to the other side of the plane. He sat down in the farthest seat away and tried to block out their whispering.
--
He didn’t know how long he had been sitting staring out the window when Sam sat down beside him.
“Hey,” Sam said.
Bucky ran his tongue over his teeth. “Hey.”
“Listen, I, uh, I wanted to apologize,” Sam said.
“Why?”
“Because, man, I… can you look at me?”
Bucky finally turned away from the window, his jaw tight.
“I didn’t know,” Sam said. His eyes were sad. “I didn’t think about it. I mean, I knew you were forced to fight, but not-” Sam faltered, took a breath. “You’ve been through more than I realized.”
Bucky’s jaw clenched, his fingers curled. “I don’t need your pity .”
“It’s not pity ,” Sam snapped back, Bucky’s lip twitched up. “I just didn’t realize I was dealing with an abuse victim, okay?”
Bucky’s smile fell as quickly as it had started. “Yeah? Well you don’t have to fucking deal with me at all.”
Sam closed his eyes, “that’s not what I meant.”
“No, I know what you meant. It’s what everyone means. Without Steve here, what do we do with the Winter Soldier now? The useless, washed up, fucking cyborg . Why did it have to be Captain America who died? Why couldn’t it have been him? Well I don’t know ! I don’t know either! Because it’s not like Steve told me his fucking plans, he was too disgusted by the sight of me to talk to me about anything! And why wouldn’t he be? In the last 90 years, I’ve been a- a fucking toy that’s been used too many times-” his voice broke. “ Fuck .”
“Bucky, man, that’s not what I was thinking.” Sam said, “I just meant I would have been treating you a bit differently. Like, maybe a little less manhandling, for one.”
“Oh.” Bucky sniffed, turned away to wipe a hand over his face. He felt like an idiot. The tears didn’t help. “It’s… fine. You’ve treated me fine.”
“Alright,” Sam bumped their shoulders together. “You let me know if there’s anything that makes you uncomfortable, okay? Whether it’s me or,” he gestured meaningfully with his head. “Anyone else.”
Bucky looked between Sam, and the rest of the plane. He didn’t think… no one had cared if he was uncomfortable before.“...okay.”
“Good,” Sam nodded, “...and everything you just said about Steve-”
“Oh, God,” Bucky slumped in his chair. This whole day was all too much.
“I’m just saying, I felt betrayed too,” Sam said, “he made a major decision without consulting anyone. It hurt. It makes sense that you were hurt too.”
“...thanks.”
“And for the record? I don’t think you’re a useless toy. And I don’t wish it was you instead of him. Steve was my friend,” Sam nudged his shoulder again. “But you're my friend too.”
“Thanks, Sam,” Bucky smiled at him, even if it was weak, “that means a lot.”
It meant more than he could say. Other than Steve, he hadn’t had a friend in… in a long fucking time.
Sam grinned at him. “Anything else we should talk about? This is a good heart-to-heart, they don’t come around often, wouldn’t want to waste it.”
Bucky rolled his eyes, “if we talk about anything else, I think my head might explode.”
Sam snorted, “better be careful then, cyborg, I don’t think they make those parts anymore.”
Bucky shoved him, “shut up.”
“Here I am, being all nice, calling you my friend, and now you’re telling me to shut up?” Sam raised his brows, mockingly offended, “you’re gonna hurt a guys feelings.”
“I’m a cyborg, remember? We don’t care about things like feelings.”
“Right, right,” Sam said, but he was grinning.
A few minutes later, Sam pulled out his phone, started scrolling again. Bucky liked his lips.
“Hey, Sam.”
“Yeah?”
“You… you’re my friend too.”
Sam looked up, smiling at him, “yeah. I know.”
Bucky nodded, and then turned back to look out the window.
It felt good to have a friend.