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Sam was not Steve.
Bucky was watching him taking pictures with all the people from his hometown - and it was something that should have felt like all those dumb shows they made Steve put on but this was different. Sam wasn't acting. He wasn't figuring out the role. He was as comfortable in this space - with his arms wrapped around a woman who'd probably watched him grow up and laughing at "her Captain America" as he was suited up with his shield and wings.
His shield. Bucky took a second to let the weight of it settle on him. It was Sam's shield now. In a way it hadn't been before.
Sam held the shield like a man who knew the weight of it was more than vibranium. He held it like a man who wasn't afraid of facing it's history.
Steve had held it like he was born with it. Him and Steve had made a mistake there. They didn't look at the history of it because part of them was always too caught up in being the history attached to it. Steve hadn't realized it. Bucky hadn't either. Men out of time, missing all the cues that should have been so obvious. And if that was there excuse, then what about all the people who were living through this world and missing it anyway?
Bucky took a look around the cookout. He wondered if Steve had ever had a chance at something like this - in all the years they'd spent apart. There was a lot of history they hadn't gotten a chance to cover before -
Bucky coughed, excusing himself from the table and tucking himself in a quiet corner. He was comfortable here, but sometimes looking at Sam brought up all these thoughts. He had to get it under control. This wasn't the time to get lost in the what ifs of Steve.
Sam was not Steve. But Sam made him feel like he belonged here.
Sam made everyone feel like they belonged. He spoke to civilians in the field the same way he spoke to Bucky. As if they were just as adept at saving themselves as the soldiers - because to Sam, they were. Sam saw the hero in everyone, and that's the version of them that he spoke to.
Steve was like that too. But he was the sort of leader that plowed ahead and dragged you with him. Sam watched you, he met you where you were ready to be met. He wasn't running anywhere, he was pushing you to where he knew you were always meant to go.
Sam knew how to meet Bucky where he was from day one. He knew when Bucky needed to fight, or sit quietly. He knew which things he needed to keep to himself, and when the time was right to shine the light on those things even when Bucky resisted.
Which was probably why Bucky found himself here. He could hear Cass and AJ asking where "Uncle Bucky" was and the tears were in his eyes before he recognized what they were.
Uncle Bucky. That was something, wasn't it? Something he thought Hydra had stolen from him. His sisters. Their families. Breath, Buck. Get it together. Can't go crying at the cookout. After all, what kind of uncle did he want to be?
He waited until Cass and AJ's voices drifted closer before sliding out from his quiet spot. They jumped on him laughing, dragging him over to their mom and hanging off of his arm like a jungle gym. He caught Sam's eye from across the party - waving an exasperated hand at the kids. Sam rolled his eyes - refocusing on the woman who was most definitely making bedroom eyes at "her Captain."
Bucky figured he should save him from her. He didn't, but he should have. Instead he made sure to smirk at Sarah with his charm on full blast anytime Sam looked over.
Delacroix was a home like he hadn't found before. In Brooklyn, he'd been so good at the dance of things. The charmer was a role he knew how to fit in - but it hadn't felt right going back. Wakanda had been something like peace - but it wasn't a foundation for his new life. It was the place where you did the work and crashed on your friend's couch.
The other places - the ones Bucky tried not to think about - they weren't anything he'd even give a name to. They were the sort of things you tried to remember didn't define you. They were the sort of things that left you with cracks in all the wrong places.
But here, sitting on the docks and becoming something like an honorary Wilson. This felt like something he could get used to. Which was good, considering where all his stuff was currently waiting to be unpacked.
He offered to help Sarah round up AJ and Cass, clean up a bit. She just gave him a knowing look and sent him on his way. Apparently the news had caught his face in the background of Sam's big speech and in Sarah's words "When you know, you know."
He could hear Sam humming a song under his breath, as he walked over the edge of the docks. The sun was setting and Sam was lost in it. Bucky gave him a moment, a breath, and then slipped behind him. He tapped Sam's shoulder, before sliding his arm down to rest on the small of his back.
The edges of Sam's mouth slipped into a smile, and Bucky pulled his hand away. It was a dance. One step forward and one step back, and if you were lucky - Sam turned to him, resting his hand on Bucky's shoulder - if you were lucky they started dancing with you.
Bucky wasn't sure he remembered all the right steps, but when Sam smiled at him like that. Well, it's not worth it if you don't risk a stumble or a fall.
"Bucky?"
Bucky pulled himself out of his thoughts, smiling back at Sam.
"How 'bout we start unpacking? I mean, 3 whole boxes, man. Might take us all night."
Sam was dragging him back towards the car, towards the boxes, and the future waiting for them.
"Oh, I can make sure it takes us all night."
"Oh! Oh-kay! I see how it is." Sam winked at him, letting his arm fall from Bucky's shoulders. "Two can play that game, Buck."