Work Text:
*****
Sam found Darlene sitting outside on the public library steps a few blocks away from her school. She looked way too broody for a twelve-year-old, though, it wasn’t as if Sam had had his own problems when he was twelve. She glanced up at Sam with that stare she got from her other father. That intensity that felt like it could pierce right through Sam.
It probably could. Slice Sam straight in half if she wanted to, really. She had that power over him.
She said nothing. No acknowledgment besides the stare. Sam sighed as he sat next to his daughter on the steps.
“So, you ditched school,” said Sam with no judgment.
“Just the last period,” she mumbled into the arms folded on her knees, “I wasn’t feeling great.”
Sam heard those feelings in her tone. The anxiety laced with a fear of letting someone down. The guilt of stress overwhelming you.
Sam placed an arm around Darlene and rubbed her arm. She leaned onto him pleasantly, despite the circumstances, and Sam was happy, so happy, that he felt like a safe person to her.
“Nothing to do with that Spanish test that you were supposed to take?” asked Sam as she stiffened.
There was a long silence after, one that Sam knew was because she was caught. That fight or flight kicked in and flight had won over.
“I used to have panic attacks about tests,” said Sam, and he could feel his daughter peek up at him, “I’d put all this pressure on myself and then I couldn’t breathe. I still do it now sometimes. It’s hard to feel like you have to be absolutely perfect all the time.”
“… You’re not mad?” asked Darlene, confused by this.
Sam wasn’t sure where he went wrong there. There should be a balance. Between what he hoped for her and when she could lean on him. He would have to work on that. The more he parented, the older he got, the clearer it became that no one knew what they were doing. Sam hated that. But Sam had also accepted that and tried to get better always.
“I don’t think you should do this again, but… you have to cut yourself some slack, sometimes. You’re doing well. It’s okay to have a moment where you’re not okay,” said Sam as he heard Darlene’s sniffles, felt her dive into his chest and cling to Sam as he felt the wetness of a flood of tears pour from her, “Want to get some ice cream? I have this photoshoot I have to do as Cap in a little bit, but we have time for ice cream.”
Darlene nodded into his shirt, smearing snot and tears all over it. Sam didn’t mind. He helped her up as they began walking to the nearest ice cream parlor.
*****
Sam was comfortable with his body. Moreso after top surgery and getting on T. When he started growing facial hair, when he started feeling like the person he was all long. Sam even loved the idea of photoshoots now. He thrilled at the ones at home. Where it was just Darlene and himself and Bucky being their most ridiculous and editorial selves. The ones Sam posted online without thinking much about anything other than the great time he had with his family.
And to some extent, that rolled over. Sam knew that he looked good. He was promoting sustainable farming nonprofits in the south in general as one of his several campaigns for aiding smaller communities, so of course they dressed him up as a cowboy. Not that Sam minded. He could soak in the feeling of transforming into Nat Love and George Glenn, got to embody Bill Pickett and Addison Jones.
But there was this sense – this undercurrent. Maybe Sam was being paranoid, but he could feel a slight offness with the photographer’s smile, a stiffness in it. There was a way in which the photographer phrased his responses to Sam’s actions that made Sam feel like he was not sticking the landing, but the photographer didn’t believe in Sam enough to tell him to try again.
Sam wasn’t sure what he was doing wrong.
He tried not to second guess himself.
But it was a slow-building wave of insects crawling under his skin. Sam, on some level, knew he wasn’t disappointing people, tried to remind himself to not get in his head, but the more the photographer sighed and told him “Let’s just try a different pose” or “Never mind, what about we try shooting you from over here”, the more Sam could feel the anxiety try to claw its way out of him like it was scraping out his insides and leaving a hollow mess behind.
Which wasn’t a great look when he had told his daughter to not be too hard on herself just a few hours ago. A daughter that was sitting on a haystack and watching Sam. Sam needed to be okay. He needed to remind himself that he was… doing fine. Just.
Fine.
This was okay.
Sam was good at photoshoots, even if the photographer… hadn’t smiled once since they started the shoot. Nor had he complimented Sam on anything.
Sam didn’t need compliments to know he was doing well…
…Okay, so maybe Sam sometimes would like compliments to know that he was doing well, and it was beyond this man to give Sam any. Which. Could be his style. Maybe his style of photographing during a shoot was… kind of mean and made Sam insecure. Maybe Sam was overthinking this.
The photographer sighed again.
“What about we just… take five. We’ll start over there on the mechanical bull in five,” said the photographer, who turned away from Sam without Sam even agreeing.
Sam took in a deep breath.
He exhaled as he walked away from the barn the magazine rented out for the editorial and straight towards the craft table. He grabbed a water before sitting down with Darlene. Sam felt exhausted. He wanted to apologize to Darlene for having to be here on this set today, but when he turned to her, she looked… positively beaming.
“You looked so cool out there, Dad,” she said, and a little voice in Sam’s head was telling him this was fake excitement bursting out of his daughter.
“Really?” asked Sam dubiously before he could stop himself.
Darlene placed a hand on his arm and looked at Sam with all the seriousness in the world.
“You looked good. The photographer doesn’t seem really happy with the lighting situation. Maybe it’ll get better once sunset hits? But you look awesome. Try to be nicer to yourself, you little cowboy,” Darlene said, dead serious.
Sam burst out into laughter. He couldn’t. He couldn’t with how serious she said it. With how obvious it was now that Sam thought about it. Darlene joined him in a fit of giggles.
“I see you two are having fun without me.”
Sam looked up to find Bucky standing to the side of them. Smirking. Sam wondered how much he had heard.
“Pa!” Darlene yelled as she rushed over, giving her pa a big hug.
He picked her up, twirling her around in the air before placing her back down. Sam wasn’t sure how much longer Bucky could do that without Darlene saying she was “too old” for those kinds of things. He wasn’t sure how long he had until Darlene started thinking of Sam as embarrassing rather than cool. He was just happy to appreciate her joy for them before teenage angst undoubtedly set in, a right of passage Sam had accepted was on the horizon. They still seemed to have some time before she started disassociating with them, though.
“Heard you had a hard day, D,” said Bucky, his hands still on her arms, bent down to her height.
“Yeah, but Dad had a whole speech on it being okay to not be okay and talking about how to deal with stress in healthier ways, so it’s better,” said Darlene with a shrug, “We also had ice cream. Ice cream always helps.”
“A speech, eh?” said Bucky as he quirked an eyebrow Sam’s way.
“It wasn’t a speech speech,” said Sam, unable to stop himself from smiling.
“It was a speech. You know how Dad is,” said Darlene as she and Bucky laughed.
Sam tried his best to glower.
He really couldn’t.
“I know how he is,” said Bucky, his eyes warm, his smile making those crinkles near his eyes pronounced, “Do you want to head on home or stay for the rest of the photoshoot, my darling D?”
“I’d like to stay, if we can. I want to ask the photographer about his camera and about technique,” said Darlene.
Sam had known Darlene was on the newspaper at school, but he hadn’t known she was into photography. Maybe it was new. Maybe she was just ready to tell them about it.
“It’s a break right now. What about we go over there and ask him if he can spare a few minutes after the shoot?” asked Sam.
Darlene grinned.
“I need to go to the bathroom, but let’s go after that,” said Darlene, heading over to the ladies’ room and leaving Sam behind with Bucky.
Bucky sat next to Sam. He wrapped an arm around Sam and pulled him close.
“You good?” asked Bucky.
Sam let out a rough breath.
“Good enough,” said Sam and he hoped he sounded like he meant it.
Bucky leaned in closer, his breath hot on Sam’s ear.
“Try to be nicer to yourself, you little cowboy,” whispered Bucky.
Sam cackled, playfully pushing Bucky away.
“Worst,” said Sam, feeling lighter, hearing Bucky laughing along with him, “You are the worst. Why did I marry you?”
“Because you love me,” said Bucky in a sing-song way as he moved closer and ruined Sam’s photoshoot makeup with kisses.
Sam should be saying something back. Sam just grabbed Bucky’s face, kissing him on the lips. Because he did love this absolute dork who made him feel less anxious when he needed it.