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Sarah Wilson, generally, had confidence in her brother’s ability to not be a dumbass.
She knew that Sam was theoretically a very smart man. His selection for the Falcon program and the fact that he did pararescue was enough evidence for her to be pretty certain of it, actually. She knew that he would, at the very least, need to have his wits about him to be as successful as he was as a superhero, too.
The keyword is ‘theoretically’ because as it would stand, you don’t need to be an idiot to be a dumbass. Sam’s relationship with Bucky- or lack thereof- was a testament to that fact.
Sarah heard about Bucky before he arrived in Delacroix- of course she had, because Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes was pretty famous, actually- but it wasn’t until a few weeks before Sam left to deal with the Flag Smashers that she really heard about him.
“Bucky’s not texting me back,” Sam huffed, shoving his phone back into his pocket to help Sarah with dinner.
“I thought you said you weren’t really friends?”
“We’re not, but...well, we’re not not friends, either, you know?”
“No, I don’t know.”
Sam paused to raise his eyebrows at her before turning back to the vegetables on the chopping board. “I’m just worried about him.”
Sarah heard even more about the enigma that was Bucky Barnes when Sam came back from Latvia.
“How’s Bucky?”
“Huh?” Sam jumped slightly, looking over at Sarah from where he had been staring blankly out at the ocean. “Bucky? Yeah, he’s good- I think. We don’t- I haven’t really spoken to him since the last mission.”
“Why not?” Sarah never knew her brother to avoid talking to someone like that. Usually, he was the one forcing conversation. It was one of the best and worst things about her brother.
“Dunno. He messaged me just before about dealing with...something confidential, but...aside from that-“ Sam sighed and shook his head. “We’re not as close as people think.”
That very statement was put to the test the very next day when one metal-armed man showed up on the docks, gave Sam a mysterious case with a fingerprint scanner, and offered to help with the boat.
And what an unusual man Bucky was.
Shy wasn’t the right word to describe him, because while he didn’t talk all that much, he was quite talkative with Sam, and then he turned a charmers’ grin on Sarah and Sarah almost believed the flirting. Maybe she would have believed it more if she couldn’t see the hesitance in his eyes, but she still played his little game nonetheless.
Of course Sarah had known that Sam cared about Bucky, but she figured it was something to do with the whole “he’s one of my closest friends’ best friends and I feel obliged to look out for him” thing. It wasn’t until she saw Sam look over at Bucky with a look in his eye that she recognised that the pieces slid together in her brain, clicking together and suddenly everything made sense.
But she didn’t say anything about the longing looks, or even the way they bickered like they’d already been married for 38 years. They’ll sort it out, she figured. It might not even be that serious.
She had been wrong.
Sarah came down the stairs late one night to get some water, stress from work keeping her up. She was about to round the corner into the kitchen when she heard a voice from Sam’s room. She crept over, curious.
It didn’t take her long to work out who he was talking to.
“Are you sure you don’t need me to come over? I can be there in a few hours.”
There was a brief pause while Bucky replied. Sarah wondered if she’d ever known Sam to make that offer to anyone else. Maybe Riley, once upon a time.
“I get that. It’s normal. Do you feel better, though? Now that you’ve told him?”
Another pause.
“No. You said that he never knew what happened to his son, but what you did- it gave him closure, he knows, now. Even if it hurt to find out, at least he knows.”
Sarah was suddenly struck with the realisation that this wasn’t a conversation she should be listening in on and silently scolded herself, heading to the kitchen to get the water that she’d originally been after.
On her way back to the stairs, she couldn’t hear anything from Sam’s room and figured he’d ended the call. She was about to mount the stairs when she heard a faint sound.
She paused and listened, and heard it again.
A sniffle. Then a quiet sob.
Sam.
Sarah knew that for Sam to be crying, presumably over listening to Bucky talk, Sam had to be in deep. Sarah speculated that it was more than just a little crush that Sam had.
And then Bucky showed up to the cookout, and Sarah was fucking certain.
She of course had to tease Sam, just a little bit, but when she saw them sitting together on the edge of the dock, looking out over the sunset, any speck of doubt in her mind about their situation was washed away.
Then, the next morning, she awoke to an empty couch, and she smiled to herself.
“What are you so happy about?” Sam asked as he wandered into the kitchen, still in a t-shirt and pyjama pants.
“The couch.”
“...what about it?” Sam leaned to pour himself a coffee, shooting Sarah a suspicious glance.
“No one slept on it.”
Sam froze, his back to Sarah and slowly turned around to look at her, expression carefully neutral. “What are you implying?”
“Oh, nothing…” Sarah said, bringing her own mug up to her lips to hide her grin. “I’m happy for you, Sam.”
Sam’s expression softened and Sarah saw the relief in his eyes. “Thanks, we, uh…” he huffed out a laugh. “We’re um… partners. Romantic partners.”
“I figured,” Sarah laughed, and Sam narrowed his eyes at her. “Just don’t keep me up at night, you hear? Don’t need the boys asking questions about that -“
“What? Oh, no, no, no-“ Sam cut her off. “No, we- it’s not like that. We don’t- we’re not ready for that, and I’m ace anyway. Sex-positive, but yeah. Still ace.”
“I know,” Sarah reassured him. “Does Bucky know, though?”
“Sort of. I implied it, but I haven’t actually spoken to him about it, exactly,” he explained, eyes drifting toward the window and staring out at the brightening sky. “We have time, though. No rush.”
Sarah nodded. “So...do you love him?”
“Yes.” Sarah blinked at the surety of his instantaneous reply. Even with all of her suspicions, she didn’t expect such certainty. “We were talking last night, and he does, too. I don’t- it’s not usually this fast, but I’m not sure it actually was fast. I think it just took me a while to see it.”
“Yeah, it took you both long enough,” she teased, and Sam scoffed.
“Oh, you knew it was gonna happen, did you?” Sarah raised an eyebrow and Sam’s eyes grew wide. “You did ? Since when?”
“Since the first time he visited!” She laughed again. “Nothing happens in this family that I don’t know about, Samuel, you should know that.”
“What should he know?” A voice interrupted from the doorway, and Sarah glanced over to see Bucky leaning against the door frame.
“Nothing happens without her knowing about it, apparently,” Sam explained, and Bucky moved to lean against the counter next to him. Sarah watched them share a fond look, full of warmth and something that could only be interpreted as love . God, they were so in love, they were stupid with it.
“Hey,” Sarah began, “I’m glad you guys are happy. And Bucky-“ Sarah glanced at the man, and he looked a bit fearful. “I hope you stay a permanent part of this family.”
Bucky opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out. Sam looked equally as surprised but touched.
“Now,” She said, breaking the silence, “unless you want to be stuck doing dishes, get the hell out of my kitchen.”
The pair laughed and left out the back door to sit on the porch.
Sarah listened to the gentle murmuring of their voices as she prepared breakfast, and when she looked out the kitchen window, she caught sight of the two men, sitting pressed into each other’s sides on the steps leading up to the house.
She watched Sam lean his head on Bucky's shoulder and smiled to herself.
Dumbasses.