Chapter Text
The big three, it’s always one of the big three. Androids, aliens and wizards. Despite their earlier disagreements about the existence of wizards, this is not how Sam envisioned proving Bucky wrong. But hey ho, here they are.
To be honest, Sam’s not really sure how it happened. One minute they were emerging into an abandoned warehouse to stop a kid who was playing around with magic and then boom, there’s a big flash of bright purple light. Sam was left temporarily blinded before he rubbed his eyes in an attempt to clear his head and focus. After a brief scan of the area it didn’t seem like a bomb had gone off, which is always a plus, but it was with a pang and a sinking heart Sam realised he no longer had eyes on Bucky.
Human Bucky, that is. Because right where Bucky had been standing, now lies a seemingly unconscious black German Shepherd dog, sprawled across Bucky’s discarded clothing, besides one custom made vibranium arm now without an owner.
What the fuck?
Sam stares dumbly at the prone canine figure for a several long moments, trying to decipher whether or not he’s hallucinating. He can’t remember hitting his head, but then again the possibility of him whacking it without realising is more believable than… this.
The dog (Bucky?) isn’t moving and Sam’s heart drops as he realises he’s not a hundred percent sure it’s breathing. The realisation snaps him back into reality and he starts to scramble closer in order to check. Sam drops to his knees besides the dog, his hand reaching out somewhat hesitantly towards dark ebony fur. He places his hand gently on the dog’s side, reluctant to startle Bucky or cause pain. The fur is surprisingly soft, long and shiny and his hand somewhat sinks into it. The figure is warm and Sam lets out a relived breath as he feels his hand move with the rise and fall of the respiring chest.
Now that that’s covered, Sam feels himself slowly descending into panic.
What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck.
The dog is Bucky… Bucky is the dog?
What in the ever loving fuck is going on?!
Sam is pulled from his tremulous thoughts by a soft whine as Bucky the dog starts to regain consciousness. Sam pulls his hand away as if burned, suddenly worried he is the source of Bucky’s apparent discomfort. He scans the furry body for injuries but finds none, yet despite that he can’t seem to tear his eyes away, apparently mesmerised by the canine figure in front of him. Alarmed blue eyes meet his and Sam’s breath hitches.
“Bucky?” Sam asks hesitantly, suddenly embarrassed and acutely aware he looks crazy and his partner could emerge from the shadows any minute now, laughing at him hysterically.
Bucky lets out a bark in reply, seemingly startling himself at the noise. Blue eyes flash with confusion before he lets out another bark followed by a disgruntled whine.
“Holy shit Buck,” Sam breathes as he lets himself drop backwards to sit on his ass. Bucky lets out another bark before huffing irritably.
“Dude, I hate to break it to you but you’re a fucking dog,” Sam says, letting out a somewhat manic laugh. Bucky stares at him incredulously and Sam muses idly that at least he hasn’t lost his capacity for death staring.
Sam presses the heels of his palms into his eyes in a feeble attempt to ward off his oncoming headache. When did this become his life? He hopes briefly that when he opens his eyes again this will all have been a whacky hallucination but, no such luck.
They stare at each other for a moment before Bucky makes an attempt at standing up, it’s wobbly and clumsy and Sam realises belatedly that Bucky only has three legs. He supposes it makes sense as he looks towards the discarded vibranium arm. At least that didn’t just disappear, explaining to the Wakandans that they lost their very generous, very expensive, gift would be the kind of awkward conversation Sam prefers to avoid.
Bucky sways slightly before seemingly finding his balance. Sam stares dumbly at him from where he’s sat on his ass, confused out of his goddamn mind.
When Sam woke up this morning, this is definitely not how he saw his day going. He actually had a pretty good run this morning, he’d been chilling with Sarah in Delacroix before being called in to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of New York because of a suspicious disturbance, seemingly involving magic. He’d zoomed on over using his vibranium wings, thank you Shuri, and met up with Bucky there.
He hadn’t seen much of the super soldier in recent months following the defeat of the flag-smashers. Bucky had stayed with him and Sarah for a few days immediately after and it had been great, really great actually. But eventually Bucky had gone back to New York and the yawning distance between them had started to grow once again in the absence of a common objective.
They saw each other for missions here and there, happy to keep their new found partnership going but you know what they say about long distance relationships, that shit is hard. They still clash on missions, it wouldn’t be them if they didn’t, but there’s no animosity anymore and their squabbling is more playful than anything else. Sam would never admit it to the super soldier but he misses him when he’s not around. At least Bucky actually replies to his texts these days.
Hell, he’s still never even been to Bucky’s apartment. He knows the address, in case of emergencies of course, but has yet to receive an invite. He doesn’t take it personally, or at least, he tries not too.
Anyways, Bucky and he had met up at the scene and come face to face with a punk ass teenager shooting purple blasts of magic all over the place. Fortunately no one else seemed to be around, and Sam knows he has limited knowledge of wizards and all things pertaining to magic, but it seemed to him the kid was just trying to practice some spells in an abandoned area. Of course, when he had seen Captain America and The Winter soldier arrive to bust his ass he had freaked out and blasted them, hence their current predicament. The kid is long gone now without a trace, so they’re on their own.
“You ok, you hurt?” Sam asks after a moment, stumbling to his feet himself. He still feels slightly lightheaded, his brain a bit fuzzy and his limbs floaty from shock. Sam’s seen a lot of weird shit, but this is still really blowing his mind.
Bucky blinks back at him and takes a step forward, well, more like a hop thanks to his missing arm (leg?) in an apparent effort to test his new body out. Seemingly satisfied, he shakes his head at Sam. Ok, no injuries, that’s something.
Bucky walks around for a second, appearing to get his bearings in his new body before circling back to sniff at his vibranium arm. He looks up at Sam expectantly before gesturing with his head towards it.
“Wow, even as a dog you’re bossy. Figures.” Sam grumbles as he makes his way over to pick up the arm. It’s lighter than he’d thought it’d be and it feels extensively weird to be holding his friends detached arm. He feels guilty almost, like its an invasion of privacy, although he knows that’s ridiculous.
Bucky huffs at him in apparent annoyance before starting to sniff Sam’s legs.
“Woah, what the hell are you doing?” Sam tries to back away but Bucky just follows after him, determined to get a good whiff of Sam. “Seriously man, this is weird,” Bucky pulls back and looks at him with an expression close to exasperation. It would look funny if Sam wasn’t still so freaked out.
Sam just stares back at him in confusion before Bucky, swear to god, rolls his eyes and backs away, shaking out his inky black coat. He stares back up at Sam and lets out a soft whine, gesturing his head towards Sam’s body.
“Oh, I’m fine too. Just a bit fuzzy after the flash of light and the shock of… this,” he waves his hand towards Bucky’s whole body, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, you look great, I’m just having a hard time trying to figure out what the fuck we do now.”
Sam’s trying to keep his cool, he really is, but even Captain America has limits. His human partner being turned into a big fluffy dog is definitely pushing those limits. Sam’s never even had his own dog. Sure, they had a family dog as kids, Roscoe, but that’s different. What is Sam suppose to do with him now? Should he take him back with him to Delacroix? What is Sarah gonna say? How the hell is he gonna change him back?
Brilliance strikes and Sam snaps his fingers, “Strange!” He exclaims at Bucky, who narrows his eyes at Sam in annoyance. He has an expression that says, No shit Sherlock, on his face and Sam hurries to clarify. “No I mean the wizard, sorcerer, whatever. He’ll know what to do right? And he’s in New York!” Sam feels hope start to seep back into his bones and his head clears slightly in light of a positive plan. Bucky perks up a bit as well, his expression getting brighter and less bitter as he yips happily. Ok, they have a plan.
He reaches up to his ear to activate him comms and stumbles through a brief explanation of their current situation to a baffled Torres, who seems to be in shock for a moment before taking it all in stride, arranging for a car to take them to Strange’s ‘sanctum’, whatever that means.
“Alright let's get going fido,” Sam teases, picking up Bucky’s discarded uniform to carry alongside his prosthetic arm. Bucky looks up at him unimpressed before following Sam out of the warehouse.
“Told you wizards exist,” Sam can’t help but point out, to which he gets a low growl in return.