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Sam Wilson was kissing him. Bucky had yearned for this very moment for so long. Sam had initiated the kiss, and Bucky really, really wanted to kiss him back.
But.
Bucky pulled apart.
“Buck, you ok?” Sam said, worried, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
“Hey,” Bucky cut in, grabbing Sam’s hand, and looking straight into his eyes. Those incredibly beautiful dark brown eyes that could see right through Bucky, call his bluff, stare into his soul. Every time Sam gazed deep into Bucky’s eyes, Buck felt dizzy, intoxicated, he just wanted to jump into them, or into Sam’s arms.
Bucky lowered his head and let out a deep breath. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I just… I don’t know if I can do this, Sam.” He felt tearful, but tried hard not to give in. “I’m a mess. I mean, not only I’m in a messy place right now, I…” Bucky couldn’t find the words and he could feel the weight of Sam’s sight, concerned, confused.
Sam squeezed his hand. “It’s alright, Buck. You know you can talk to me, if that’s what you want. We could also forget all about this, and…”
“No, it’s not that.” Bucky looked back at Sam. “I just… Fuck. I have done so many horrible things, Sam. I have killed so many people, I have hurt so many… I have even tried to kill you, Sam, for fuck’s sake!” Tears were rolling down Bucky’s cheeks. “And you are… so incredibly wonderful, in every way. I don’t think I have ever met anybody as purely good as you. Not even Steve, and he was fucking golden.” Bucky let out a sight, lowering his eyes. “I’m sorry, Sam, but I don’t deserve you.”
“Huh. So that’s what this is all about?” Sam let out a sad, soft laugh. “Look, I could tell you you’re an idiot and just kiss you again, but I’m going to indulge you. So, you have killed people, you have hurt them badly? I’m a fucking soldier as well, Buck, I know what that’s like.” Bucky opened his mouth, but Sam beat him to it. “Uh-huh, don’t even think about it. You have to let me finish, ‘cause I listened to your speech, so now you gotta hear mine.
As I was saying, the soldier part I get. And we were both in the battle against Thanos, so I also get that. But I know you mean The Winter Soldier. And, trust me when I say this, because I have thought so much about it…
When we were searching for you, Steve and I, I was so wary about you. Steve kept on insisting that you were not The Soldier, and I didn’t believe it. Of course I didn’t. I understood you being taken and tortured and manipulated into that, that they experimented on you until you became that thing. I understood you might have been a completely different person before The Soldier, but I didn’t think there was any way to take that away from you anymore, I didn’t think you could be saved.
And then the Avengers’ shitshow took place, and I remember once we were on the run with Steve and I just looked at you and you seemed so lost and defeated and heartbroken. And I saw it, what Steve had said. You were very definitely not The Soldier. And it’s not about being deprogrammed or going to therapy. I could finally see you, buried deep inside your eyes, behind layers of angry faces and pissed off looks and aggressive comments and cynicism. I saw the man who helped his friend, so much so that he ended up putting his own life at risk. A man who would do that time and time again. A man who doesn’t want to fight anymore, and yet he shows up every time he’s needed.
And you proved me right when you decided to stay in Wakanda, and go through with their program, and even attending therapy and trying to make amends, even if I believe your therapist is shit and you need to work harder. And you proved me right when you helped me against the Flag Smashers, and called out on Walker’s shit, and mine, and fucking admitted to yours, like how you abandoned me with the shield and the weight of a mantle I wasn’t sure I wanted or deserved.
Don’t get me wrong, you definitely still have a shitton of work to do, for sure. You need to hold yourself accountable for the things The Soldier did, even if it wasn’t really you. But you need to own that, because that’s the only way in which you can know what you need to do to feel better, to get better. Like making amends in an honest, conscious way, and not in a famous person fake video apology way. Like being kinder to yourself. Because that’s the path to you being you again. And maybe you should also find a better therapist.
But you have to understand that, whenever I look at you, I never see The Winter Soldier. And while I’m aware they (Hydra or whoever) used your body and mind as a tool for their means, it wasn’t you. Because I can see right through you, and I know it, I just fucking know it.
The you I can see in your eyes is the one I want, the one I fell for. The one who’s always there to help, the one that keeps it honest, the one with undeniable loyalty, the driest sense of humor and zero musical taste, the one that covers my six better than anyone and makes me feel protected, the one who believes in me and trusts me to be Captain fucking America. Because that’s you, ok? And I fucking hate the idea of “being worthy” romantically speaking, but if you want to put it in those terms, I have no fucking doubt that we deserve this. After all the things we have been through, we fucking more than earned our “happy ending,” although I hope this is not at all an end, but a beginning.”
Sam wiped away Bucky’s tears and cupped his face, staring deeply into his blue eyes. “So, let’s try this again, hopefully better this time: Bucky, I am absolutely crazy about you, and I don’t think I can go on another second without kissing you. So, unless you oppose to it, I’m going to do that right now.”
Bucky didn’t oppose to it.