Chapter Text
Sam liked to think that he had become relatively skilled at reading Bucky's mood.
After all the time the pair had spent together recently it was inevitable that he had began to learn and recognise his behavioural patterns and quirks.
The ominous staring for example, a sign of supressed annoyance or anger; or the subtle frown Buck often wore when he was over thinking something in that cyborg brain of his.
Hell, he should start calling himself the Bucky-whisperer.
He still wasn't much of a talker, more confident for sure but Barnes was still very much a private person who was reluctant to share his thoughts or feelings, though Sam wasn't at all surprised considering his past with Hydra.
Sometimes he wondered how many times he had even been permitted to speak in those long 70 years. How many words had he even spoken? After all this time living as a free man the hesitancy to speak freely was undoubtedly a difficult habit to break.
His therapy with Dr Raynor had helped a lot but Barnes still needed space to work through some things in his own time and Sam respected that.
He had a strong suspicion when something was bothering the guy, and today seemed to be one of those days.
Wilson noticed something was off with Bucky when he almost slept through breakfast.
He was an early riser just like Sam, no doubt one of the effects from having super soldier serum running through his veins. Bucky had been sleeping on the Wilson family couch on and off for a few weeks now - at Sarah's insistence; until he found his own permanent place of residence outside of his shabby unlived apartment back in the city.
With his rare, suave Brooklyn charm he never missed an opportunity to compliment Sarah on her breakfast waffles, so Sam was surprised to see him still nestled in a blanket on the worn couch cushions when he came back from his morning run at the crack of dawn.
It was out of character.
He tried not to jump to any conclusions, everyone was entitled to a lazy day once in a while.
Maybe the old man was finally giving himself a well needed break.
Wilson made himself a coffee and skimmed the morning paper, finishing just in time when his nephews appeared and Sarah began cooking them breakfast.
What did he do to deserve such a generous sister?
The sound of AJ and Cass bickering playfully must have woken him eventually, as shortly after they sat down Bucky wandered into the kitchen, looking worn and bleary eyed.
'Morning Uncle Buck!' the boys chorused enthusiastically.
'Hey guys,' Barnes greeted tiredly, dropping into an empty seat with a soft sigh.
Sam spotted the obvious exhaustion radiating from his friends slouched shoulders, the fuzzy bed head and eye bags suggested he hadn't slept at all.
Sarah dropped a plate of food in front of him without any prompting.
'Thanks Sarah,' he smiled softly, though it was obvious to Sam that the smile seemed a little forced, and almost fragile.
Maybe he'd had a nightmare?
It wouldn't be the first time and certainly not the last.
'I was starting to worry man, I thought the couch had eaten you or something,' he teased, carrying his empty dish to the sink.
'I'm 106 okay? Give me a break,' Barnes whined, wincing as he rolled the stiffness from his shoulders, his Vibranium arm whirred from the movement. He was so focused on his food that he missed the look of awe on Cass and AJ's faces as they stared at his exposed prosthetic limb in wonder.
'So cool,' AJ whispered in admiration, the kids would never grow bored of seeing Bucky Barnes metal arm.
'You don't look a day over 100 Bucky,' Sarah reassured, grabbing her keys from the counter top.
'Come on boys, you better get your shoes on if you wanna make it to soccer practise on time.'
The boys left the table in a whirlwind of energy, leaving Sam and Bucky alone to finish their coffee.
'Well, if your done with your beauty sleep I gotta run to the store, think you could help a brother out?' he asks, eager to offer a distraction to whatever was troubling his partner.
Bucky nods wordlessly as he chugs the last of his drink.
'Good, coz I need a super soldier to carry all the bags,' he joked.
'Captain America can't carry his own groceries?' Barnes snorted, depositing his empty mug in the sink.
20 minutes later the duo found themselves queuing in stationary traffic, seated in the Wilsons pick up truck. From the moment he'd pulled out of the drive Sam noticed Bucky fidgeting relentlessly in his seat, as if he couldn't get comfortable no matter how hard he tried.
Barnes was certainly acting weird for sure.
Well, weirder than normal anyway, Sam thinks.
'You good?' he asks in concern as he observes Buck from the corner of his eye, whilst they sit at a red light.
His movements are subtle but Sam spots him flexing the fingers on his Vibrainum arm rhythmically, he wears a pinched expression of discomfort.
'What?' the sound of Sam's voice snap's him out of his daze almost instantly, he does a good job of quickly concealing the pained look on his face but Sam notices the familiar furrowing of his brows.
The same expression he wears when he's suppressing something.
'I said, are you good?' he repeats, 'Man, aren't you supposed to have enhanced hearing or something?'
'I'm fine,' he mutters, ignoring Sam's jibe.
'You're a bad liar, you know that?' Wilson accuses, eyes flicking back and forth between Bucky and the traffic lights.
Bucky doesn't answer, instead he rolls his eyes and chooses to stare ahead at the long line of cars in front of them with bored disinterest.
'I know when your lying, coz every time you lie you get this stupid little crease right between your eyebrows.'
'What? no I don't-' Buck snaps defensively.
'Ah! see, there it is' he points smugly, 'that there? that's what I'm talking about,' he waggles his finger.
'Shut up,' Barnes huffs, folding his arms.
'The only reason I ask, is because you've been fidgeting since your ass touched that seat, you got ants in your pants or something?'
'Its nothing, okay? don't worry about it,' he tries to dismiss Sam's concern, but he should know by now that Sam Wilson doesn't give in so easily.
'If something's bothering you Buck, then it isn't nothing,' he insists.
There is a long pause of silence, the only audible sounds are Bucky tapping his fingers against the dashboard and the honking horns of impatient drivers behind them. Just when Sam thinks he's lost all hope of prying any information from his friend Bucky eventually speaks.
'Its my arm,' he answers reluctantly, finally giving in to Sam's curiosity.
'What about it?' Wilson asks cautiously, eyes instinctively drawn to the exposed prosthetic limb.
'It aches sometimes, that's all,' he answers hesitantly.
Well that makes sense, Sam thinks.
He may have no true understanding of the complex workings of the Vibrainium arm, but Sam didn't have to be a genius to understand that no matter how advanced the technology, any metal limb fused to a human body would no doubt be uncomfortable from time to time, no matter how impressive the design.
His mind began to wonder as he pondered what it really felt like to wear a prosthetic limb every day.
Bucky was one of the toughest guys he'd ever met, with his enhanced body he could handle more than a little pain, so he knew that the aching had to be pretty bad to cause him to be so restless.
He wondered if all the recent fighting had caused some unseen damage to the elements in his arm.
'Maybe you knocked a screw loose or something?' he ponders out loud. Hell, did the arm even have screws? He wasn't sure.
'When was the last time you had maintenance done on that thing anyway?'
'No, that's- that's not the problem Sam.' he answers uneasily, his fingers continue to drum anxiously against the dash.
'Then what is? Tell me man, maybe I can help-'
'It's complicated,' Barnes insists stubbornly.
'Try me,' he challenges.
'It's not my Vibrainium arm that hurts okay, its-' Bucky trails off with uncertainty, Sam waits patiently for him to finish his words.
'-It's the one I lost.' he answers finally.
Oh.
Bucky was experiencing phantom limb pain.
That makes a lot of sense, Sam thinks to himself.
He felt like an idiot for not considering it sooner.
'God, that sounds so weird when I say it out loud.' Barnes scowls, rubbing the port on his shoulder awkwardly.
'Like an itch you cant scratch huh?' he says, sympathetic.
Barnes nods.
'Something like that.'
Bucky seems surprised by his understanding reaction, he obviously thinks that telling someone your non existent arm hurts makes you sound crazy.
It doesn't.
In the years Wilson spent working for the VA it wasn't the first time he'd heard about Phantom Limb pain.
He knew that It was a sensitive subject for some amputee's, no doubt one of the reasons Buck had avoided talking about it for so long.
'Have you had any treatment?' he asks, though he already knows the answer.
Bucky shakes his head.
'Cause I'm enhanced medications not exactly an option, unless I spend my days tranqu'ed up to the eyeballs.' he says, '- so that leaves, acupuncture and electroshock therapy and I've uh, had my fill of electric shocks for a life time thanks.' he says firmly.
Damn.
His thoughts drifted to the chilling contents of the file Natasha Romanov had obtained for Steve shortly after they first met. He was quickly reminded of the many pages containing intimate details regarding the 'electroshock therapy' Hydra had subjected Barnes too.
As if losing an arm wasn't bad enough, once again Sam was reminded of the torture Bucky had been subjected too. It still lingered, even after all the years that had passed.
'Want me to give you a massage?' he teases light heartedly, an attempt to bring a genuine smile to his friends face.
He's joking of course, but if Bucky asked him to rub his shoulders he would be more than happy to comply if it wiped the glint of sadness from his expression.
'No thanks,' he answers, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.
Its a small smile but Sam considers it a victory; for now anyway.
'Come on Buck, don't be like that, all the ladies tell me I've got magic hands.' he grins, wiggling his fingers. 'Let me rub the tension from those big muscular shoulders of yours,'
'Keep your magic hands to yourself please,' Barnes screws up his face in mock disgust. 'I don't know where they've been.'
'Do you know how many people would pay good money for Captain America to give them a massage? I'm offering you my services for free, you don't know how lucky you are.'
James snorts at the ridiculousness of his words before a startling grin crosses his face.
'You know what? a massage isn't such a bad idea, maybe I should ask Sarah-'
Boy Bucky sure knew how to push his buttons.
'Don't even think about it!' he barks.
'What? it was your idea-'
'If I see Sarah rubbing your back, I will whoop your ass-' he threatens.
'I'd like to see you try Samuel-'
'Hey, I'm not afraid to hit an old man-'
The pair were so engrossed in their bickering that neither noticed the lights change from red to green. A short tempered driver behind them began to honk their horn, startling them both.
'Jesus Sam, will you keep your eyes on the road!'
'Excuse me for being a little distracted with defending my sisters honour-'
'You drive like a grandma, next time I'm driving,'
'No way am I letting you drive this car, do you not remember literally ripping a steering wheel out of my bare hands?'
'That was one time Sam! god you just can't let it go - '
The childish squabbling continued for the rest of the ride, and to Sam's relief the distraction seemed to make Bucky's discomfort soon forgotten.