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Sam could hear music. Quiet, tinny little music coming from headphones. Star Lord, his brain supplied. What kind of a name is that? Sam was pretty sure the man had fallen asleep, but he’d left his walkman on and Sam could hear it from the other side of the cabin.
The cabin itself was crowded, a dozen bunks filled with half the Avengers he could assemble on short notice. The other half were on a modified quinjet, all of them flying off to god knows where to fight some aliens. Sam wasn’t sure he fully understood the situation, but he trusted Monica and she definitely knows her aliens. He had faith in her. Still, as Sam lay on one of the top bunks in the dingy cabin of the Guardians’ ship, he couldn’t relax.
Staring at the ceiling, wishing she was somewhere else instead.
He could actually make out the lyrics. I know that. What is that? Sam tried to ignore it.But that was easier said than done when he felt so wired, electrified and a million miles away from sleep.
One of us is lonely.
He pulled his pillow over his face, silently screaming into it. Is it Cher? It’s definitely 70s. God, Sam was worried - anxious even. They were a million miles away from Earth and his head was full of the million things that could go wrong. Who put me in charge?
He’d actually sent everybody to bed, ordering them to get some sleep before the mission. He felt like a bit of a hypocrite about that. He’d never felt further from sleep. I don’t know what I’m doing. I shouldn’t be in charge here.
Sorry for herself, feeling stupid feeling small.
Sam huffed in annoyance. ABBA. It’s definitely ABBA. He finally gave in, rolling out of the bunk and dropping to his feet. He tried to move quietly, wary of disturbing anyone else in the cabin.
On the bunk below him he found Bucky, who was lying on his back staring upwards, just like Sam had been. They made eye contact. Move. Bucky turned onto his side, crowded up against the wall to make room, and Sam slid into the bunk. There wasn’t really enough room for the two of them, and Sam’s shoulder just barely brushed against Bucky’s chest as he settled in next to his partner. Boyfriend? Whatever.
Sam found himself staring up at the bottom of his abandoned bunk, hands clasped over his stomach. Bucky didn’t say anything at first, but he eventually put his hand over Sam’s, squeezing gently.
“You good?”
“Do you think we’re going to survive this?” Sam whispered.
“Uh. I…”
“I don’t - I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s not normally like this.” It was true, Sam was usually better at sublimating this kind of thing but tonight was different. Riley. Maybe it was something about being in charge, being responsible for other people’s lives. Karli. The need to get everyone home safe.
“You’re worried.” Bucky said.
“You know, my mom always said I’d get myself killed doing something stupid.”
“Sounds like she knew you pretty well.”
Shut up. Sam ineffectually shoved at Bucky’s shoulder. He kept talking.
“I don’t actually have a death wish,” he said. Not now. Things are okay now.
Bucky squeezed Sam’s hand again.
“I guess I don’t usually think about it. But right now it’s all I can think.” He turned his head towards Bucky, just making out his face in the dark. “What if we don’t make it?” What if I let these people down? What if someone else dies on my watch?
“You know I always ask myself that?” Bucky answered after a second. “Well, not that. I don’t ask if we can make it. I worry that you won’t.”
“Buck.” It’s not about me.
“Some of these people, jeez. They’re aliens, they’re gods. You’re just human.”
“You’re human.”
“You know what I mean,” he snipped. When he spoke again it was even quieter. “It’s all the time, Sweetheart. I’m terrified I won’t be able to save you.”
“Who said it was your job to save me?”
Bucky made a noise, like he was starting to argue back but thought better of it. Instead he shifted so he was leaning over Sam. He cupped his jaw, angling his face towards him. He could see in the dark better than Sam, a perk of the serum. Sam wondered what it was he was looking for, what he saw in his face.
“What?” Sam asked after the silence started to get to him.
“I can’t promise you anything you’ll believe,” Bucky said, slowly, like he was realising the truth of it. “But I need you to survive this mission. Every mission. I’ll do anything to make that happen, to get you home safe.”
“And you. Both of us,” Sam said, barely audible, leaving a lot implied but not said. Don’t die for me. Don’t let me come back alone again. Don’t be another person I’ve lost.
Bucky didn’t answer. Sam knew why, knew he wouldn’t accept it. The idiot would prioritise Sam’s life over his own no matter what he asked. Didn’t he realise it didn’t work like that? Didn’t he know that Sam didn’t want to be safe and sound if it meant being alone again.
They lay there in silence for a while longer, neither one of them knowing what to say that wouldn’t turn the peaceful silence into an argument. This wasn’t even supposed to be about me.
“Can I sleep here?” Sam asked eventually. Will you hold me?
Bucky looked at him, a little amused. “Yeah. Obviously.”
If they slept in the same cot then there’s no mistaking what they were. The others will know for certain. Sam found himself not really caring.
“Turn over,” Bucky murmured.
Sam turned onto his side, letting Bucky nestle his body against his back, holding him with his left arm. Sam clutched the arm to his chest and willed his eyes closed. The vibranium was cooler than body temperature, but not by much, and it hummed softly - purred, even. It was a gentle white noise that Sam had fallen asleep to a hundred times before. He felt his tiredness slowly creep up on him. Maybe Bucky knew this was exactly what he needed.
Thank you, he thought. He didn’t need to say it.