Work Text:
1.
Sam Wilson has been a huge fan of Captain America since he was a child, part of the reason he joined the military was because he wanted to serve his country like Steve did. He knew all - at least all that’s public - about Steve Rogers: A sick, skinny kid who got a chance to become a super soldier for his heart of gold, a war hero, a miracle, the leader of the Avengers...
But when he met Steve that morning, he realized Steve was a soldier not so different from him and those who came to his sessions at the VA - someone who’s lost everything to war, who struggled to find his place in a strange world.
So Sam wasn’t surprised to see how Bucky’s return from death had taken such a toll on Steve. Finding Bucky was the only thing that kept Steve motivated some days. Being an Avenger wasn’t easy, there were more bad days than good ones. Injuries, traumas, secrets...some days Steve would stay in his room all day doing god knows what, even talking seemed too much of a traverse. Occasionally they found traces of Bucky, every time in a different country or even continent, on those days Steve was galvanized, so cautiously hopeful like he was afraid if he thought about it too hard he might scare Bucky away. Each time they found nothing, and the recalcitrant silence would stretch out for days.
Sam tried to comfort him, saying that maybe Barnes’s just not ready.
“I don’t think I’m ready either. I mean, I still don’t know half of the shit Hydra’s put him through, I don’t know how, if at all I can help him...” Steve told him, his expression was one of sorrow and reminiscent, “I went through a lot of tough times when I was a kid, and Bucky’s always there, and things’d turn out fine. I feel like, as long as I have him, everything’s gonna be fine. So I guess I’m just being selfish, but I can’t...I can’t live without him, not when I know he’s still alive.”
Before this, Sam couldn’t have imagined a bond so deep it changed your perception of life, on life. Bucky was like the antenna to Steve’s old TV set, the cacophonous and meaningless world only turned colorful and vivid with his existence. And Bucky, though Sam was still wary about the guy, remembered Steve. After decades of brainwash, the first thing he did not as the winter soldier, was save Steve. If he’s Steve’s antenna, then Steve was the lone star in Bucky’s darkness, his only guide out of the bottomless abyss.
What a magnificent friendship.
So although Sam didn’t understand, he sincerely hoped that Bucky was alive and well, and was looking for Steve too.
2.
They were on the flight to Latvia, intel indicated A.I.M operations there. Natasha barely sit through the briefing before she passed out on the bench and slept. Sam was equally exhausted, and crawled into a sleeping bag on the floor, falling into a long overdue dreamless sleep. Steve was probably still studying the intel, strategizing, Natasha knew better than to convince Steve to do anything else when he’s got his mind set.
Ever since the jail break, they’ve been alternating between missions and evading the authorities non stopping for 5 months, only allowing themselves several stops to Wakanda to repair gears and visit Bucky.
She woke up with a hand hovering over her shoulder.
“sorry.” Steve whispered, smiling apologetically. Steve was half crunched down next to her, towering over her without being imposing, somehow, probably because she had unreserved trust in the man, or maybe he was just good at making himself smaller than he actually was, like he never grew out of that scrawny kid in the 30s. Steve lowered a blanket on her, “rest, you need it.”
“you?” she tucked the blanket closer to her body. It felt nice.
“I’m fine.”
Natasha braced her right elbow on the bench and propped herself up to get a better look at Steve. He was pale, got dark circles under his eyes, his cheekbones sharper from weight loss, he was just as tired if not more than her or Sam. But it’s only physical, she realized when she looked into his eyes, those ocean blue eyes were glimmering with happiness and lightness, from being freed of Captain America, from knowing that his friends were all safe.
Natasha was still convinced that Steve got into the wrong business, but she was also grateful that he did.
“you should rest too. We still got a couple of hours of flight.”
“I will, I just...well, Bucky and I scheduled a facetime call in 10 minutes.” Steve rolled down to sit on the floor with his legs crossed, a smile appeared on his face,“did I tell you Bucky can speak Xhosa already? He had the neighbor’s kids teach him.”
“that’s what, the 40th language he speaks?”
“18th.” Steve corrected her, “I’m not as good with languages. Sometimes he speaks foreign languages to me just to irate.” he didn’t sound irritated though. “he’s...he’s recovering so well, Nat. He never tells me how difficult it is, cus I know, I know it’s hard, but he doesn’t want me to worry. I should be there for him. He’s there for me all the time, but when he needs me...”
They were still wanted by authorities. In order to throw the government off Bucky’s scent, they had to run, everywhere and anywhere, leaving enough trace just so they didn’t turn to other means and sources of intel. They ran, not away from something but towards. The longest way around is the shortest way home.
Natasha placed a hand on Steve’s arm. “the best you can do for him is to stay alive. He’s with people who can help him the most, we have our own missions too.”
“yeah, you’re probably right.” Steve sighed, looking up, he smiled at her, “sorry I woke you up. You should go back to sleep.”
“promise me you’ll get some too after your call.”
“you got it.”
Natasha stayed awake for several minutes, thinking about Clint who was probably enjoying his retirement, about Rhodey, wondering about his recovery, about Wanda who was still in London with Vision, their unconventional romance was quite a shock but wasn’t hers with Bruce one as well? She didn’t think about Bruce. She thought about Steve, how his loyal-to-a-fault friendship to Bucky could hurt him eventually. Mostly she thought about herself, she signed the Accords yet here she was. She thought she was doing the right thing by signing but Steve had shown that she wasn’t, most importantly, she finally found where her trust lied - in not SHIELD or the Avengers, nor any other institutions or agencies. It was in individuals, in Steve Rogers, Sam, Clint, hopefully, one day, herself too.
Natasha was drifting on the edge of sleep when she heard Bucky say ‘I’ve missed you’ in Arabic and told Steve it meant ‘you look like a hobo’. she could hear Steve’s grunt that was followed by a light laughter.
So Natasha thought about Barnes too, as long as Barnes could make Steve happy, she could forgive him for the bullet holes.
3.
Scott Lang was an engineer by training and a criminal by choice...well, not always, but this time he definitely knew what he was getting into...well, that’s not entirely true either, but hey, he’s following Captain America who was no longer Captain America and insisted on being called ‘Steve’, so it was hundred percent legit business.
Steve, Sam and Natasha reached out for his help with a document extract in Michigan. Scott said no because he was still under house arrest...well, at least that’s what his ankle tracer reported, Scott Lang never left his home in New York and he definitely didn’t freeze half to death in the blizzard in Michigan.
The mission itself was simple, Scott handed the flash drive to them, rubbing his hands together, white fog huffed out of his mouth with each word, “can we grab a donut or something now?”
The rest of the three looked at each other, and Sam said, “Steve should go buy it. He’s practically unrecognizable now.”
It was true. His hair was longer and dyed into a messy sandy brown, a beard obscuring half of his face. Steve’s transformation was not just physical, the way he carried himself was different as well, more hardened, rougher on the edge, like a wild animal, his every move was graceful and calculated, always ready for a fight. Scott noticed the star on his suit had joined the Avengers insignia in a dumpster somewhere, without the flag color and symbols, there was nothing screamed ‘Captain America’. Steve resembled nothing of the golden son of America. How many people could still recognize the man without the costume?
Steve came back to the quinjet with three boxes of donuts and four cups of hot drinks.
“oh man is this heaven?” Scott groaned undignifiedly as the sweetness exploded on his palates.
“your standard of heaven is rather low, man.” Sam joked. “I always picture heaven is this super fancy garden, like the ones in renaissance paintings, and people are just eating grape fruit while talking about Homer or something.”
“this is true happiness and satisfaction, Sam, ergo this’s heaven.”
“I kinda agree.” Steve chimed in, “not that this is heaven, but the definition.”
“oh yeah? You’ve been there?” Scott chastised himself for the terrible phrasing considering the man was presumed dead for 70 years but Steve didn’t seem to mind.
“I have, yes.” all three of them were watching him now, Steve’s eyes shifted between the food in hand somewhere far away, “three weeks ago we were in Wakanda, it was a beautiful day, it was warm, the lake was sun irradiated, the air smelt of trees and earth, birds, so many of them unique to the region, were singing and frolicking. Bucky was talking with the neighbors about tomorrow’s morning market. Then he suddenly called my name, asking me to carry hay stacks to the stable. And I thought, I could live like this forever.”
“wow.” Scott said.
Steve was suddenly bashful, a faint blush crawled onto his cheeks. “anyway...” he didn’t finish that sentence.
Scott painted the idyllic scene in his head, a heaven in the countryside of an African nation, a less tense Steve doing farm labour with his buddies with no one after them and no wars looming on the edge of the horizon. His version of heaven kinda sucked in comparison. Maybe he could go and visit them because he was totally pals with them now. “Wakanda sounds like a really nice place.” he said to Steve.
Steve’s expression shifted a little. “It is.”
“hate to break it to you boys, but,” said Natasha, “heaven isn’t real.”
4.
Fighting the White Wolf has become one of T’Challa’s favorite modes of training. They were equal in terms of strength and speed, Bucky’s fighting style was a mix of several different martial arts he wasn’t familiar with, making it hard to predict his next move, on top of that, Bucky was learning his fighting style fast. A worthy opponent was just as valuable as a trusty ally, the white wolf was both.
T’Challa’s trust in Bucky stemmed from Bucky himself, instead of the extension of Captain America’s reputation. The man willingly put himself under cryo freeze for the benefit of the others, there were days when Shuri’d come back from deprogramming Bucky completely wrecked, broken as she had to watch horrible memories play again and again. He was kind to everyone, learning the names of the guards and even cooks in the palace, indulging curious teens in his neighborhood. How could a man, who’s gone through what Bucky has, still put himself last and treat the harsh cruel world with such magnitude and kindness, and how could T’Challa not respect the warrior and intrinsically good man that Bucky was.
Bucky refused to wear the new arm Shuri made him outside of their training sessions, T’Challa understood and respected his decision. Bucky adjusted to living with only one arm well, the only problem came with the hair. Bucky kept his hair long but it got in the way sometimes, and tying your hair with only one arm was practically impossible. To deal with this dilemma, he made the girls of his neighbors’ his personal stylists, they got to mess with his hair and Bucky got his hair done.
That’s why he showed up at the palace one day with dreadlocks. T’Challa didn’t think he could forget Shuri’s laughter, ever. Even Okoye and Ayo snickered.
“we gotta take a picture!” Shuri locked her arm with Bucky’s and leaned into him to take a selfie.
To her surprise, Bucky asked Shuri to send to photo to him. “Steve’s gonna want to see this.”
“man, you let him see your embarrassing moments?”
Bucky shrugged, “we share everything.”
“the level of commitment!”
Shuri didn’t know half of it when it came to Captain Rogers’s commitment to Bucky. T’Challa thought to himself and wondered briefly if he was brave enough to fight the entire world for someone. Bucky was lucky to have the friendship and loyalty of such a man.
“do you know when the Captain will come here again?” asked T’Challa, “we - Shuri and I, have some ideas about his weapon of choice.”
Bucky’s eyes widened. “the shield?”
“yes. I understand that Captain Rogers had given up the symbol but he still needs weapons if he continues to fight.”
“please, you’ve done more than enough for us...”
“don’t be a stranger, white wolf, you are basically one of us now.” Shuri slapped his shoulder friendly, “besides, having white people on our debt is never a bad thing.”
Bucky almost rolled his eyes. Almost. “I’ll ask him.” he grew more sincere, “I don’t know how to repay you for this. I...thank you.”
In hindsight, T’Challa should’ve caught something unusual in Bucky’s choice of pronoun, but at that moment he didn’t thought much of it, and even with the benefit of hindsight, T’Challa could still argue that it was nothing unusual about Bucky and the Captain seemed to often include each other in their ‘I’s.
5.
“sir, we’ve got spotting of Rogers in the state.”
“yeah, yeah, got it.”
Rhodey hung up the call so fast he was sure he missed something the agent was trying to tell him, he wasn’t interested in knowing anyway.
What, in God’s name, were they doing? And what have they done already? Turning Captain freaking America into fugitives, pissing off the UN because they suddenly had a change of heart about the manhunt, breaking up the Avengers...Tony could barely look at him in the eyes these days. And himself?
Rhodey looked around the empty room and sighed.
The council that oversaw affairs regarding the Accords still kept him appraised, Rhodey only accepted their intermittent updates so he knew how his friends - former friends, perhaps - were doing and found solace in the fact that they remained free of the government.
Steve left Tony a letter and a cell phone. In the letter Steve didn’t apologize for not signing the Accords or leaving, only that he was sorry he’d hurt Tony by withholding information regarding his parents’ death. That’s when Rhodey learned about how and why shit went down in Siberia.
If he were in Steve’s position, Rhodey didn’t think he would’ve said anything either. No one was that brave and selfless. Rhodey had helped Steve’s indefatigable search for Barnes, listened to what he talked about him, and witnessed just how far Steve’s willing to go for him. Steve might be a super soldier but he’s got a blind spot the shape of Bucky Barnes. Rhodey couldn’t find it in himself to blame someone for being loyal to his friends, not more than he could judge Tony for his reaction after learning the truth in such a brutal way.
It was a little like a Greek tragedy, the heroes ended up miserable for doing the right things.
The right thing for them, more precisely, for Tony to do now was to apologize to Steve, if not for trying to kill him then for the unfortunate ending of their friendship. Rhodey tried to talk to Tony about this but Tony Stark never apologized, so that was that.
Walking with the machine still felt funny, like an infant being dragged by adults. Still, he walked across the room, stopping a couple of feet away from the unexpected guest, crossing his arms in front of his chest, he greeted, dryly, “Mr. Secretary.”
+1
As soon as the quinjet landed, Steve all but cantered off towards Bucky who was waiting for them.
They hugged, bodies collided with an audible thump. “missed you.” Steve muttered.
“me too.” said Bucky, still wrapped around Steve’s arms, “you’re losing weight.”
“it’s a new beauty trend.”
“didn’t know people are into homelessness now.”
they finally broke away from the hug, but still stood close, their hands weren’t even off each other. Bucky had his hand on Steve’s chin, feeling the scratch of the beard.
Steve only smiled, covering Bucky’s hand with his own, gazing into Bucky’s eyes, he declared, “I have a home.”
That’s when Bucky went in for a kiss, one that Steve returned with much eager. Gosh he missed this so, so much. He missed Bucky’s voice, the way he drawled the vowel in his name that no one else did, he missed Bucky’s hands on him, on the shoulder or back, a constant, inconspicuous reminder of his presence, he missed Bucky’s warmth and smell, something that settled him, grounded him. He missed Bucky, whether they were apart for a day, a month, or seventy years, the emptiness in his heart was the same, it was only with Bucky that Steve was complete.
“what?” someone yelped. And Steve broke away like he’s been burned, his face certainly lived up to that analogy, the blush spread all the way down to his neck.
Steve mumbled an apology when Bucky just took a step forward and held his hand again. Natasha was right about PDA, Steve never wanted to make people uncomfortable, besides, it was neither in him nor Bucky to blur the boundary between private and public. Today was an accident, a temporary loss of control to the overwhelming emotions, Steve was not sorry about this part.
“when?” Sam gaped at them, eyes comically wide.
“when what?” Steve was confused.
“the kissing thing.”
Steve then looked to Natasha, the woman who ‘pretended’ to know everything, was better at hiding her reactions, nevertheless there was no mistaken the shock in her eyes.
“if it’s any consolation.” Bucky said, his face crunched up to a wry smile, “Shuri hundred percent knows, Okoye too.”
“they do?” now Natasha was really piqued, threatened, to be exact.
“how come you don’t?”
“uh...” Sam flailed his arms in a futile gesture.
“we all have blind spots, Steve. No one’s perfect.” said Natasha, a hint of frustration stirring beneath her otherwise nonchalant tone.
Natasha was right, Steve himself knew one thing or two about blind spots. They were only human after all.
Steve felt Bucky squeeze his fingers so he returned his attention back to him. A big smile plastered across Bucky’s face, bright with joy and love, his hand warm and solid and real in Steve’s palm - he’s here, Steve had to steady himself, Bucky’s actually here.
Steve waited a heartbeat until he realized Bucky wasn’t trying to say anything, not verbally at least. Words weren’t always necessary between them, like now.
This time he initiated the kiss, and he was not at all sorry.