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After the Blip, after Steve, it was hard. Steve left him with the shield and his best friend like they were a package deal. And Sam didn’t want either. The shield was a complicated legacy, and Bucky was a whole-ass person with trauma and grief who was being abandoned.
They got a little apartment together. The shield sat in its case. There was a PBS documentary about Steve and his legacy. Sam didn’t think it was healthy to watch it. Bucky did anyway. He watched it silently, hardly blinking. Near the end, it talked about Bucky — Steve’s childhood best friend. It spoke of Steve’s steadfast belief that Bucky was a hero and the letter he had written on Bucky’s behalf that had helped contribute to Bucky’s recent pardon.
Bucky turned it off abruptly and spoke softly, “First time he left me for her, I got it. What we were… it was illegal. I was always gonna love him. Couldn’t hold it against him. Asked me if I would follow Captain America into the jaws of death, and I said I would follow the guy from Brooklyn anywhere. And I followed him… all the way to here, through hell, dragged over broken glass. And now it’s legal, but I was all messed up, and all wrong. He said, in Wakanda, he’d be waiting. But he wasn’t and then he left me for her again. I just wonder… we used to say we were together ‘til the end of the line. And I never saw the train come into station.” He shrugged. In a monotone voice, he said, “Should have killed me on the Helicarrier; woulda been kinder.”
Sam had always had his suspicions. Steve had flirted with him plenty. And the way he’d talked about Bucky had always been off. Hearing it now was heartbreaking. He wanted to shake Steve, not just for the shield.
***
He talked a lot about what the hell to do with the shield with Bucky. He talked about giving it to a museum.
“No,” said Bucky, vehemently, “no. You give it to a museum and they will turn around and give it to some asshole.”
Sam sighed, not wanting to fight with Bucky. Bucky had lost weight, wasn’t showering often enough. Fighting with a depressed guy wasn’t healthy for anyone. But he said, “Look, Bucky, this is… I get it. Steve wanted me to take over. But… the country doesn’t want a Black Cap and I just don’t want to have to shoulder all that burden for a whole damn race.”
Bucky was silent for a while, then said, “Places had signs in the windows for jobs. They’d say ‘No Black; No Irish.’ Steve and mom, they only spoke Gaelic inside their apartment. When we were fourteen, the International Eugenic Conference met at the Natural History Museum and said mandatory birth control wasn’t enough; they should just deport people like him to make sure they wouldn’t breed and make America weak — his medical history made him abhorrent to them. Inside our apartment… our life was illegal. And in the Army, no one wanted him for Rebirth. All the top brass fought against it. But the key scientist demanded it… I kinda wonder if they let Erskine pick Steve because they thought the first guinea pig would die. Steve didn’t forget you were Black, Sam. But no one wanted him to be Cap either. He was an Irish Catholic degenerate with undesirable genes. Sure, country’s racist, but you’re hot and well respected — you have a big leg up from where he started. But you see the people beneath you unlike the person the top brass would pick to be Cap if it were left up to them. He wanted you to be Cap because of your integrity, your personality, your temperament and beliefs. Captain America needs to remember who he is fighting for and needs to know what it feels like to be underestimated and overlooked and hurt by a system so he can help change it. Don’t be the Black Cap; just be Cap — the guy who’s doing his best for everyone. Maybe it wasn’t fair of Steve to pick you, to make it your responsibility. If you don’t want it, okay, fair. He shoulda asked, not just forced it on you. Erskine talked it through with Steve, about all his options; Steve shoulda done the same for you. But, for Christ’s sake, don’t give my last connection to home away. They will give it to someone they like, and we won’t like them. I’ll take it if you can’t stomach it. I’ll do it.”
Sam wasn’t gonna make an underweight, unbathed man pick up the shield.
He went out to coffee with Rhodey, and they talked it over. Rhodey said, “He’s absolutely right.”
“Steve thought it through?” asked Sam.
“I didn’t know Steve well enough to know that,” Rhodey shook his head, “But they will absolutely thank you for donating it and then turn around and name some cornfed blue-eyed asshole the next Cap faster than you can blink.”
He called T’Challa to talk about the shield. His father had been so angry about the theft of the vibranium. T’Challa, “A Black Captain America? Shuri will make you a suit. You still like that bird droid?”
“I love Redwing.”
“She’ll give you an upgrade.”
Finally, he had talked it over with Sarah, a long, hard talk about the pros and cons, the whys and why nots. She said, “I loved Steve. And the boys adored him. But… you don’t have to do this just because a pretty boy told you too. You always had a problem with pretty boys giving you responsibilities.”
“Please don’t bring up,” he said, then stopped, sighing into his phone. “I’m so… Bucky was his Riley. We became friends because we watched them… and there was nothing we could do. And Steve was gonna get his Riley back. And I knew he and Bucky weren’t like us. They weren’t together. They were brothers in everything but blood, not lovers. But the idea of someone getting their people back… now Bucky’s here — not bathing, losing weight, hardly sleeping — talking ‘bout how the first time Steve picked Peggy he accepted it ‘cause they were illegal and he guesses this time Steve did it ‘cause HYDRA broke him and he’s not good enough.” He swallowed, thinking of Bucky’s face and the defeated stoop of the man’s shoulders. “If I am doing this for a pretty boy, it sure as hell ain’t Steve.”
“Christ, Steve,” Sarah muttered. “Pretty, dumb and thinking with his dick? Not a good combination.”
“I think he was thinking with PTSD and exhaustion.” Sam shrugged, even though Sarah couldn’t see him. “If anyone wasn’t good enough in his mind… he was here for five years by himself. I have to hope — to still like my friend — I have to hope it’s that he thought Bucky deserved better than him, that he viewed himself as the problem. Otherwise, I can’t like Steve anymore. We all think stupid things when we’re left alone too long.”
“Bring your new boy down here, I want to meet him.”
“He’s not mine,” he corrected.
“Yeah, okay,” she agreed, not sounding convinced.
***
The shield stayed in the case. Bucky couldn’t go down to Louisiana because of the court-ordered therapy schedule. “Doesn’t seem like much of a pardon if you are tethered to the city,” Sam said.
Bucky just shrugged, “I’ll get arrested if I miss it.”
“Is it helping?” asked Sam.
“I… look, I don’t want to badmouth it. You used to do therapy, right? I’m sure it’s just slow.”
“It’s not badmouthing to say what’s hard,” Sam assured him with a small smile.
“She’s Dr. Raynor but I’m James, said she likes to keep things professional. I don’t feel like a James. No one’s ever… People think it’s short for Buchanan. But, Rebecca, my oldest sister, when she was little, she used to want her blanky, binky and Bucky at bedtime… she wasn’t even two yet; she didn’t know my middle name; she just called me that.”
Bucky shrugged, “And the doc, she takes all these notes, always scribbling. She writes that I’m paranoid then gets angry when I read it upside down. But she’s writing a novel over there. And I don’t… I guess she needs notes, but she doesn’t always look at me while we’re talking and it feels like… HYDRA used to have clipboards. It’s not the same, but.”
He blew out his breath hard, “She wants me to make a list, all the people I hurt while I was under. Wants me to make amends. I get it, but. Sittin’ there thinking about it all for hours, I just get lost and I don’t write it down and then she tells me I’m not working on it. So,” he shook his head, “it’s just slow.”
Sam felt cold. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up. “Bucky. That’s not slow. That’s unethical. What the hell? Not calling you your name? Continuing to do things she knows you’re uncomfortable with? Telling a torture victim to apologize for the things they were forced to do? I still have a little pull at the VA. I’m getting you someone new.”
“Sam, it’s court ordered.”
“Therapy is court ordered. That therapist isn’t. I will get you someone new and you’re not getting in trouble.”
Sam managed to get in front of the Director of Mental Health for the New York State VA in under three hours. She smiled and said, “It’s, honestly, kind of surreal. You helped a friend of mine, about a decade ago, work through some things in D.C., now, here, as Falcon, hello. How can I help you?”
“Bucky Barnes’ doctor appears to be committing some seriously unethical activities. I think you need to start an investigation, and he definitely needs a new therapist.”
She looked shocked, “Oh, okay, not the conversation I was expecting.”
They talked through everything, and she looked horrified. The note thing was… “We’ve all done things to get a rise out of a patient,” said Sam, and she nodded, “you want to see if a person gets angry, shouts, hits you, shuts down. It helps you figure out how to help them handle their emotions. But to do it session after session? What is that?”
She nodded again, “The world’s longest held POW was told to apologize.” She shook her head, “I wonder if a family member of hers is on that list. I’ll… we’ll start an investigation.”
“He’s also struggling with passive suicidal ideation. He’s not talking about killing himself but he is saying it would have been better if Steve had killed him when he was still the Winter Soldier than making him live like this. He needs help.” Sam didn’t want Bucky to get cleared; he wanted Bucky to get a real therapist.
The woman nodded, “I’ll have a better, vetted therapist assigned to him immediately.”
***
Bucky came back from therapy looking bemused. “How’d it go?” asked Sam, staring at a crate from Wakanda.
“She said to call her Rachel. She asked if I preferred Sargeant Barnes, Sarge, or Bucky. She said she has thirty patients, so she has files to remember people’s interests and what they talked about. Some people want her to keep a transcript of their conversations, others want a chat. I said I just wanted to talk so she said she would make my file once I left. She never picked up a pen. I told her the list wasn’t going well — I figured she would want me to do that. She asked what it was. I told her. And she said, ‘If you go to a party and a guest hands you a priceless glass covered in grease to make sure you drop it, who should the host be angry at?’ And it’s the other guest. So she asked why I’d tryin’ to mop up the water. But they were lives, not glasses. Parents and children and beloved siblings. And she said that I was too — a son and a brother. It was really embarrassing but I started crying. And she asked if I like lists and we talked about Steve’s and it helped him. And she asked if there was a list of stuff I want to catch up on. I told her I don’t like the TV because they just make movies little and take away magic for anything but baseball. But there’s books I want to read. They defrosted me often enough for spy missions that I’m not as out of touch as Steve was. I don’t need a crash course. I’ve seen the moon landing. I pulled the trigger on JFK. I don’t like the Beatles.” He shrugged, “I guess there’s stuff. I didn’t get to feel anything. I was cold or I hurt, and I didn’t get to… I want to try frozen yogurt, and there’s those tiny little sail boats you can do in Central Park, maybe find a night club that has swing dance. She said to make a list and do one thing a week. And I have to get a Japanese-style futon with a frame and sleep at least two inches off the floor. She texted me links to Amazon. She said it’s better for my back and a steppingstone to my bed. She said that it’s not okay that it’s court ordered for me to be there because it shouldn’t be punitive, but that untreated PTSD is dangerous, and she once slapped her son when she was blacked out but that she’s gonna help me get… She said we can go visit your sister. I just gotta call her at my appointment time and check in and she’ll check off the government form. She thinks it would be good for me.”
It was more words than Bucky usually said in a day, sometimes more than the course of two. Sam nodded. “Did it feel good?”
“I feel,” Bucky paused, “hopeful? I guess. I just… I didn’t really feel like I had a plan. I want to sleep in my bed. And she doesn’t seem to think I’m crazy. I told her Dr. Raynor thought I was paranoid, because of the escape strategy in my bedroom.”
Bucky had an overly complicated rope system that let him jump out of the window with a rope in under fifteen seconds. Sam didn’t really have a problem with it. If it helped him sleep, it helped him sleep.
Bucky shrugged, “Rachel said that I had to break out HYDRA multiple times and we don’t know if they are eradicated. Not having the trigger words is great but having a back up to leave is even better as it’s helping me go to sleep.”
“I agree with Rachel,” said Sam, “It’s not paranoia, it’s HYDRA.”
“What’s in the box?”
“A Captain America supersuit from Shuri,” said Sam, looking at the crate.
“You let me talk about my feelings for that long when this was waiting for us?” asked Bucky.
“Feelings are important,” said Sam with a smirk.
“Put on the suit,” said Bucky.
“I don’t know if I want the job,” protested Sam.
“Yeah, well, clothes maketh the man. Put it on, let me see.”
Sam figured Bucky had done something brave, so he should too. He unclasped the hinges, and it popped open, revealing a gorgeous suit.
Bucky whistled, “That’s a work of art.”
Sam went into his bedroom and put on the new suit. It was stunning. He turned on the HUD, and it was an incredible upgrade. He walked out to the living room, and Bucky’s eyes went wide. He said nothing. “What do you think?” asked Sam after a moment.
“Sorry, my brain’s resetting. You look… I’m trying to think of anything that’s not horribly inappropriate. Gimme a twirl?” Sam did. “Yeah, that’s America’s ass. You look incredible. You look… Jesus, Sam. How do you feel?”
“I feel good.”
“You look… Jesus,” Bucky shook his head.
Sam laughed.
***
Bucky got his futon. He liked the frozen yogurt, and it became a weekly thing. They went over to the pond to pilot the tiny model sailboats. They traded the controller back and forth. Little kids were all around them. It was fun and silly, and afterward, they walked through the park. It was a stunning, sunny day with just the perfect amount of clouds slipping across the sun to stop it from being hot.
Sam talked about their upcoming trip to Louisiana and the things he wanted Bucky to try. Bucky was smiling at him with a level of fondness he never would have believed back before the Blip.
“Anything else we can knock off your list today?” asked Sam.
Bucky considered it, “There’s something but… you’re my best friend. And I don’t want to ruin that. I can’t. I want it, badly. But… no, Sam, I don’t think there is anything else today.”
Sam leaned in slowly, telegraphing his movement and giving Bucky plenty of time to move away, “It’s not gonna ruin it,” he whispered before kissing Bucky. Bucky melted into the kiss. When they broke apart, he asked, “Was that a one-off on the list or was it just a start?”
“A start?” said Bucky, but it came out as a question.
“Okay, good,” Sam smiled at him.
***
It evolved from there. It started with making out in their apartment. Then they went on little dates at good tiny restaurants. Bucky never held his hand, but he grew up in a time when it was illegal, so Sam was willing to let him take his time.
Sam liked playing with his long, soft hair and put it in braids. One night, while Sam braided it as they watched the Mets, Bucky said, “I’m cutting it.”
“Why?”
“I’m getting one of those sticky up styles. Something new, different, a little modern and cool. This is just… HYDRA would just chop it off when it got too long and this is just… I stopped cutting it all off but I haven’t made a real choice for my hair since the ‘30s and I am ready.”
“That’s good. But you’re keeping it soft, right?”
Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, I don’t want you to stop stroking it.”
“I love you,” said Sam. It was the first time either of them had said it.
Bucky smiled and kissed him slowly.
***
Sam and Bucky got to the house before Sarah got home, just a few minutes before the bus dropped the kids off from school. They dumped their stuff in Sam’s room. And Bucky said, “It’s pretty here. I like it.”
“Nice town to grow up in, very tightknit, loving. No one gives a damn who you’re dating, but everyone knows,” he chuckled. Looking at the gloves Bucky almost always wore, he said, “You can ditch those if you like, y’know. No one cares. You’re not the most interesting thing around here.”
Bucky stared at his hands for a moment before taking off his gloves and putting them in his bag. They walked to the kitchen to put away the bagels they had brought. Bucky stopped at a photo and asked, “Is that Sarah’s ex?” Sam laughed, not needing to look at the picture, knowing it was a picture he loved from Sarah’s twenty-first birthday. “Look, I’ve seen pictures of the boys. But black kids can have a sandy-blond dad. Genes are weird.”
“They can,” Sam agreed as he put the bagels on the counter and the shmears in the fridge. “It’s harder for them to have a gay dad. That’s my partner, Riley.” There was no recognition on Bucky’s face as he walked into the kitchen. Even all these years later, talking about Riley hurt. He didn’t realize he hadn’t told Bucky about him. “We were together for seven years. He was my wingman. And a literal wingman — he had an EXO-7 Falcon wingsuit too. We were partners in everything. He died, RPG, right in front of me. I couldn’t do anything.”
“God, Sam, that’s… Jesus.”
“Yeah, Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell was still in effect… always said we’d get married and live on a boat someday. He loved my family’s boat. It always needs work. I promised Sarah we’d do some stuff while we’re here. I’m roping you in.”
“I’m so sorry, Sam.”
“Thanks, nine years haven’t really made it easier… or fourteen, depending on how you measure it.”
“Do you count the years we missed?”
“Only went I look at the boys. Cass and AJ were a little boy and a toddler and looking at them hurts. I miss those babies and those years. The rest of the time, it was a blink of an eye. Do you?”
“I’m used to missing years between blinks. It’s nothing new,” Bucky shrugged, and it broke Sam’s heart.
He heard a vehicle on the road and saw a school bus through the window. Sam watched them walk up the path. As Cass unlocked the door, he said, “You put your bag in your room. I’ll make us PB&Js.”
“I love seeing you take care of your brother,” said Sam. Both the boys saw him and shot across the room for excited hugs. “It’s so good to see you, boys. Missed you too.”
He introduced them to Bucky, and they both got slightly shy, even though Bucky was on best behavior. Bucky excused himself, claiming he needed to check something in Sam’s room, to give the three of them a moment to themselves.
AJ whispered to Sam, asking if Bucky was a cyborg because of his hand.
Sam smiled at him, “No, sweetheart, Bucky is a veteran, like me. He lost his arm while serving. That’s a really fancy prosthetic. He’s not a cyborg.”
“His face doesn’t move much,” AJ whispered.
Sam nodded, “Remember when Cass’ friend got in trouble for sayin’ that a girl had a resting ‘b’ face, just ‘cause she wasn’t smiling?”
AJ nodded, “He got in a lot of trouble.”
“Well, Bucky’s like that, his face doesn’t move very much when he isn’t laughing. But, I promise, he’s nice, and he’s just a person. Why don’t you go tell him some jokes? You’re good at jokes. You’ll see his face moves lots. You want a PB&J or a bagel?”
“You brought bagels?”
“I brought bagels.”
“Yay, one of those,” said AJ, before rushing toward Sam’s room.
Sam smiled at Cass, “Hey, baby, how are you?”
“Good. That’s Bucky Barnes.”
“Yeah.”
“Is he… okay?” asked Cass.
“He was deprogrammed; he won’t hurt anyone. He’s a very nice person. He’s my best friend.”
“Is he your boyfriend?” asked Cass.
He had grown up so much. But he was still a child. Explaining “it’s complicated” to a child was too hard. So he said, “Yeah. But he’s more than just my boyfriend.” Cass raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t bring someone to meet you just ‘cause I kissed them. He’s my roommate, my friend, he’s a superhero. He’s family. So, I wanted him to meet you. Even if he didn’t want to kiss me anymore, I would still want him to hang out with us.”
“Will there be kissing?” asked Cass with a grimace.
Sam laughed. Bucky and AJ came into the kitchen laughing together, and Sam smiled at them. “Why are you laughing, Uncle Sam?” asked AJ.
“Cass is very worried that Bucky and I are gonna be gross and kissing. Why are you laughing?” he replied.
“Bucky’s telling good jokes,” said AJ.
“AJ is gonna be a stand-up comedian,” said Bucky, “I’m just keeping up.”
“So are you gonna be gross and kiss?” asked AJ.
“It’s not that gross when adults kiss,” Sam said. He went to Bucky and kissed him mostly chastely, making both boys groan. “They’re at that age,” he said to Bucky and winked. Bucky looked shocked, but Sam smiled at him gently and squeezed his hand before turning to the boys. “Okay, boys, we have a couple of kinds of bagels and shmears. Come pick.”
“Can we use the outside plates?” asked AJ. “Bucky says he can do a cartwheel. I don’t believe him.” Sam saw the way Bucky minutely flinched and flexed his metal hand, interpreting AJ’s words as ablism. Then AJ said, “Adults can’t do cartwheels. Well, you can, Uncle Sam, but you’re a superhero.” Sam saw the hints of hurt get replaced with amusement on Bucky’s face.
“Bucky’s a superhero too,” said Cass.
“Oh,” said AJ. “Well, let’s all go play outside.”
Sam smiled, “First let’s grab a snack. Mom’s working a little late so dinner is gonna be a little late.”
He got them plastic plates with grapes and bagels, and they headed out to the yard to play in the cooling afternoon. They did cartwheels and handstands and played catch. Sarah pulled up when Bucky was doing a handstand with Cass climbing up his legs to stand on his feet. The boys were talking about starting a circus.
Sarah got out of the truck as Cass sat on Bucky’s feet, high up in the air. “Hi, Mom.” He waved. The movement unsettled Cass, and he started to fall, but Sam caught him.
As Sarah came over, AJ said, “Uncle Sam’s boyfriend is so cool.”
Bucky smiled, wiping grass off the palm of his hand onto his jeans. “Hi, I feel like I could make a better first impression.”
“You’re making a great impression, hi,” she said.
“It’s great to meet you,” he said, shaking her hand.
“Mom, Bucky can do seven cartwheels in a row,” said AJ. “The kissing is still gross, but that’s so cool.”
“Kissing isn’t gross if you’re an adult,” said Sarah, “but seven cartwheels is really cool.” Looking at Bucky and Sam, she said, “We’re going through a phase of ‘Eww, romance gross,’ sorry. It is so good to finally have you here.”
***
Over the next few days, Sarah admitted to some money problems. They went to the bank. It didn’t look good. They talked about fixing the boat up to sell it. The idea hurt, but…
Bucky considered it and asked, “How much are you willing to compromise yourself for your family?”
“We can’t rob the bank,” said Sam.
“No, you moron, we do a commercial for the bank.”
***
Bucky started a savings account with ten bucks. Sarah and Sam got a loan at just two percent. Sam and Bucky also got paid ten grand each for a radio ad and posters where Sam wore the Falcon suit. They said that the bank was the official Louisianan bank of the Avengers. The ad’s tagline was, “We Support Them, So They Can Protect Us.”
It was so dumb. But it was such a relief. “Bucky, man, I can’t believe you did that, for me. Thank you.”
“Sam, your sister wasn’t going to lose your house and boat, and I’ve never had much dignity to begin with. I’m happy I could help.” Then softly, he said, “No one has ever called me their boyfriend before.”
“Is it okay?” asked Sam.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s great,” said Bucky.
***
When Steve left, he wrote a few open letters to the world. One was about being nice to one another. One was about how great Bucky was. One was anointing Sam as Captain America.
There had been a lot of speculation about what Sam would do. After Steve left, Sam publicly said the world didn’t currently need Captain America, and he was okay being Falcon.
People were blowing up convoys and buildings, stealing medical supplies and vaccines. It was brutal, organized and international. People were dying, and the public was terrified.
He got sent a dossier and told he had seventy-two hours to prepare. Reading through it, he messaged back, “I need Torres here and Barnes cleared. This seems like it needs Captain America, and Torres is champing at the bit to get a chance to fly as the Falcon. I can teach him in three days.”
His phone started to ring. It was his contact, and he answered, “Hey.”
“You are going to be Captain America without a press announcement?” said the guy without a preamble.
“You wanna tell the people we’re coming for exactly what to expect?”
“I want to tell the American public and world that you’re on top of things. If you’re picking up the shield, people will feel comforted.”
Sam breathed slowly. “Well, you gotta do it fast because we’ve got seventy-two hours and you gotta Torres and the camera crew to me.”
Bucky seemed relieved, and Sam said, “Can you please help me with this?” he handed Bucky the file. “Are you up to it? It’s okay not to be.”
“I always back up Cap,” Bucky gave him a small smile.
“We need to find a place to practice. I’m not great with the shield and Torres doesn’t know shit. I’ll call Rhodes.”
***
They spent three days in the gym, almost from dawn to midnight. It was difficult as hell to get really good at the shield and get Torres safe and up to speed so fast, but also kinda fun, even as they got updates and more information.
Then, there was a press conference down by the water with the Statue of Liberty in the background. Torres was in tac gear and the wings; Bucky was in a leather jacket with his new hair and a fake smile glued to his face; Sam was wearing his new suit in public for the first time.
The introduction was all about Steve’s legacy. Sam could see Bucky getting tense. He put a hand on his back behind their chairs, trying to give him some comfort and strength. Sam was introduced as Captain America. It wasn’t shocking that the clapping was polite rather than excited. Falcon wasn’t a well-known, beloved public hero. They went through his highly decorated past. And then, it was time for questions. Sam stepped up to the mic to speak.
He said, “Today is going to be very busy. We only have a short time for this press conference, but I would like to answer at least a few questions.”
He was immediately asked why he hadn’t taken over from Steve faster. He kept a mild smile pasted on his face, “When half the world came back, we all needed to take a beat, especially those of us who were Blipped. The world needed to heal together, to breathe together. We didn’t need Captain America; we needed community and our neighbors. Now, the Flag Smasher group is presenting a problem that could use Captain America. So, I put on the suit.”
Someone asked if he felt he was ready to be Captain America, if he thought he could live up to the title. Sam said, “I don’t have the super soldier serum. But that isn’t what made Steve Cap. Bucky and I were talking about back when Steve was picked for Rebirth. The people in charge didn’t want someone like Steve. They didn’t want an Irish Catholic with health problems. Back then, Steve wasn’t viewed as a blond, blue-eyed boy. He was the son of an immigrant from a disliked country with a weird religion. Bucky told me about the International Eugenic Conference at the Natural History Museum, where they talked about deporting people with illnesses like Steve because they didn’t want him in the gene pool. No one has ever been good enough to be Captain America, but Abraham Erskine picked Steve, and Steve picked me. Some people won’t like that I’m Cap, but I’m ready. And I’ll be a different Cap — sure, of course — Steve didn’t have a degree in psychology, a Masters in Social Work.
“The first time I met Steve, I watched him run twenty miles while I ran five. It was early in the morning, and he just didn’t stop. When he finished, I looked at his face; he looked like so many vets who entered the VA. He had the hollow, not quite here look of a person not handling their PTSD. I asked him if he was sleeping or if his bed was too soft. Most superheroes — just like most vets who have faced active combat — have PTSD. Having Captain America be a trained therapist will be new and useful in the post-Blip world.
“Looking at the Flag Smasher footage, they’re organized but young. Right now, we know very little about them. We don’t know their motives. Some have labeled them terrorists. But we don’t know that. Terrorism is defined by motive. To be terrorism, actions have to be designed to create fear to further a political or social message. We know that they are stealing medical supplies and they don’t care who they hurt to do it. Are they doing it to sell them on the black market? Are they doing it to cause fear? Or are they doing it because they aren’t getting medical supplies they need? The first is a simple case of crime. The second is terrorism. The third would be a sign of a failed system that has appeared to be working. I am willing to smash heads in or talk. That’s the benefit of having a Captain America with a background in Social Work. I’ll be a different Captain America than Steve; but we’re living in a different world. The good news is — push comes to shove — I’ll have Bucky by my side, so we aren’t one hundred percent out of super soldiers. And First Lieutenant Torres is stepping in as Falcon so Captain America isn’t going out there without a team.”
Someone asked if Bucky was safe. Sam said, “It’s deeply offensive that that question is out there to be asked. Bucky signed on to fight the Axis. Bucky is the longest held POW in history. Bucky has a Congressional Medal of Honor. Bucky was tortured. He got treatment in Wakanda and was given a clean bill of health. The government knows that. The fact that he got a conditional pardon is… a true act of patriotism is loving your country, serving your fellow countrymen and questioning your government. I have to wonder what was said in the room where the decision about the pardon was made. Bucky is a good man, a hero and my dearest friend. The fact that he is still willing to fight a country that hasn’t fought for him tells you what you need to know about Sargeant Barnes’ character.” He got a signal from a General. He introduced the man with a smile.
They shook hands as Sam stepped away from the microphone. The man said, “I don’t think there are any more doubts that Sargeant Wilson is Captain America. These gentlemen need to get on their way.”
***
Once they were on the plane, he dragged Bucky away to talk for a moment. Bucky said, “What’s up?”
“Just checking in. That question-”
“People ask all the time. I’m fine.”
“I called you my dearest friend because I wasn’t sure if you would want me to call you my boyfriend publicly.”
Bucky looked at him blankly, “It’s fine.”
“No, what I’m saying is, I love you, I’d tell everyone. But I wasn’t sure if you would want me to say it in a press conference, so I didn’t say it. What people know about you is up to you.”
Bucky nodded, “If you had said you were with me, people wouldn’t have believed you were objective. And I… I don’t know what I want people to know.”
Sam nodded, “Okay,” he gently squeezed Bucky’s hand, “I love you. Sarah and the boys love you. What you want other people to know is okay with me. We can go at your pace.”
Bucky gave him a small smile, “Thank you.”
Sam smiled back, very aware that Bucky still hadn’t said “I love you.” Maybe six months was too soon for some guys.
***
The Flag Smashers were kids on a janky version of super soldier serum. They were orphans living in squats, acting out of desperation. The whole thing was tragic. Meds weren’t getting distributed. So many people had fallen through the cracks.
It ended up with a few arrests and two big exposés, an investigation and a new system being put in place. In a press conference, Sam called for more oversight on aid. He said, “I am not here to victim blame the people who were hurt and killed. And I’m not here to excuse the actions of the Flag Smashers. But this situation was created by a failure of the system. With more organization and oversight, these children — who were fueled by desperation — would not be sitting behind bars. The oldest was twenty-one; the youngest was fourteen. On average, they were sixteen. Should have been learning to drive cars and studying for math tests, not bombing buildings. Their actions were wrong. Their motives are understandable. Empathy needs to be at the root of every action we take. Because if it isn’t, we’ll face another group of Flag Smashers before you can blink. When we don’t care for one another, people take matters into their own hands with devastating results.”
***
After that, it seemed like he rarely got a break. He and Bucky would get home for a few days, knock some stuff off Bucky’s list, get Bucky into his doctor’s office and get back onto a plane. They tried to be together as much as possible in stolen moments.
Torres took him entirely by surprise one morning when he asked, “Barnes was definitely deprogrammed, right?”
They had been on a mission to so many classified places over the last few weeks that Sam couldn’t even remember what country they were in. He was exhausted, and trying to deal with Torres and his wild bullshit that early in the morning was too much for him. So, he said, “What the hell, he was deprogrammed years ago. You know this. You know him. That’s just his face, Torres. Resting murder face is his default. He’s fine.”
“No, no, it’s not that. It’s just,” he seemed flustered. “Look, Cap, the walls have been kinda thin in some of the places. And, I mean, obviously, I don’t care. I think it’s kinda sweet. And I said that to him. I said, I like you for each other, and I think it’s nice. And he looked at me completely blankly and said that you’re not like that. So, are you sure you’re not bumping uglies with a Russian sex machine and that the Brooklyn guy is absolutely, definitely aware of it? Because he totally blanked me.”
And Sam liked the kid; he did. But Torres, for all his gung-ho attitude and competency, was also so damn young and an idiot. Sam sighed heavily, wishing he could just eat his porridge in the currently unknown country, where breakfast was some sort of savory — pretty delicious — porridge.
“Joaquin,” he said, “did you ever think that maybe a guy who grew up at a time where two men sleeping together was highly illegal wouldn’t want to talk about it with you — a guy he’s known a few months? Bucky knows exactly what’s going on; he just doesn’t want to talk about it with you.”
***
President Ross wanted Sam at the White House for something. Sam said he wasn’t coming without Bucky and Torres. Ross said he could make sure that would happen.
Sam said, “Great, and when is Bucky getting a full pardon?” The man was silent. “You get my guy his full pardon; you announce it yourself; and we’ll be thrilled to visit the White House.”
***
Three days later, Ross had a short address. He said it had been an oversight; there had been a miscommunication. He talked about Bucky’s amazing, heroic past. He apologized. He also announced that he wanted to host Bucky and his guests to officially present his Medal of Honor.
Bucky said, “What did you do?”
“He wanted me to go to a party. Asked him where your real pardon was.” Sam shrugged. Bucky stared at him. “You made a humiliating bank commercial for me, man, you think I wouldn’t do this for you?” Bucky kissed him soundly. “Love you.”
***
The ceremony was beautiful. It was a shame Ross was in the pictures, but Bucky was devastating in a uniform. There was a dinner afterward. Ross told Sam he wanted to reform the Avengers.
Sam nodded, “It can’t be under the jurisdiction of one country. It has to be the UN. The world won’t trust one country’s team. Bring it to the UN. Rope in Wakanda and get the Black Panther on the team. Make it international, it makes us less scary. I’m in, but it can’t be an American team.”
***
They had three more missions; Bucky always acted so carefully around other people. It broke Sam’s heart, but he accepted it.
A reporter asked Sam about his love life, whether he was single, and what he was looking for in a date. It was a light question in the middle of a serious debrief, and Sam laughed and said, “I’m happily coupled up with a great guy. What I look for in a date is pretty eyes, a big heart and a great smile. But I’m not looking for anything because I’m off the market. Any questions about the international arms dealers, or can I go home and sleep for a week?”
***
The articles ranged from brutal to celebratory. Sam ignored them all. Bucky read them. Sam said, “No one’s opinion on me matters. It’s legal. Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell is over and I’m not even in the forces. No one can fire me. No one is gonna lynch me. I’m not gonna hide that I’ve got a great guy.”
***
Bucky never said the three words. But he always made sure the coffee Sam liked was in the pantry. He Facetimed with AJ and Cass when Sam was too busy. He got a cat and filled the apartment with plants. He helped Sam carry Sarah’s Christmas tree into the house, and they managed to get it into the stand without getting into a fight. He snuck cookies with the boys while they were supposed to be decorating them. He brought one to Sam.
It was okay not to say the words when he showed love every day.
***
They were coming up on a year. The ring was burning a hole in Sam’s pocket. He used the weird little communicator Carol had left behind, and she answered, “Hey, Sam, right?”
“Hi, Carol. Look, I know we’ve only met briefly. It’s just, I’m Captain America now. And I never get to take a vacation. And I’m hoping, airman to airman, you can do me the world’s hugest favor and cover my ass so I can get a break.”
“You want me to come to Earth so you can go on vacation?” she asked with disbelief.
“I’m gonna ask my guy to marry me,” he said.
“Oh, shit, okay. I’ll give you a two-week break.”
He told Bucky Captain Marvel was going to give them two weeks of fully covered R&R. Sam asked where he wanted to go, “Sky’s the limit, you say it and I will make it happen.”
Bucky thought and said, “I hear the fjords are cool. We could go to Iceland.”
“Iceland it is,” agreed Sam.
“But, if it’s two weeks, a few days in Delacroix first?” suggested Bucky.
“Sounds perfect,” agreed Sam.
***
He planned every detail of the trip and knew exactly where they would go and when he would propose. But first, they went home, where Sam felt he could breathe out. Bucky seemed distant. But they had been run rugged by missions.
His therapy was no longer court-ordered, but he was still going once a week when he was home and texting when he needed to when they were out of town.
Sam was doing maintenance on the boat while Bucky was inside catching up with Sarah. It was warm, and he wanted some water. He was walking in when he heard Sarah say, “He’s not going to dump you.”
“I’ve been here before. I have a type, Sarah. Last time, Steve took me to Scotland to see where my grandma grew up. We had a great weekend, then at the end of it he gently broke it to me that he was leaving me for Peggy. I’m not the one who gets Captain America. I’m the guy who falls for the man who is good enough to be Cap. Then the world takes note of that good man. Then he takes me somewhere gorgeous and lets me down gently. Half the nights of the week, I can’t sleep next to him. I end up on a futon because the bed doesn’t feel right. Then your poor brother joins me on futon. He doesn’t end up with an armless, hundred-and-ten-year-old headcase. He gets someone who sleeps in a bed. I’ll still come see you and the boys. Not when he’s here. This time I’m gonna walk away. I’m not gonna… Cap and Bucky aren’t a pair. I’m gonna walk away once he lets me go. We’re going to Iceland. Never wanted to go there, seems boring, food seems gross — this time I’m getting dumped some place I won’t want to go again. I’m trying to make changes.”
***
Iceland was stunning, Sam tried to make it fun, and Bucky smiled, but it never quite met his eyes. Sam took him out to a club playing big band music to dance. Bucky seemed uncomfortable, and Sam said, “You can dance with the girls instead of me if you want. But no one knows us here, Bucky. I know you aren’t out, and I’ve always respected that. I do. I respect your boundaries, but no one is paying attention. So, we could dance?”
Bucky said, “People have cameras everywhere, Sam.”
Bucky danced with women, and the ring Sam had in his pocket stayed there. His plan for the night was scrapped.
That night, in bed, as he stroked Bucky’s chest, he said, “You have always been a technology fan, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So what was the coolest thing ever that you experienced?”
Bucky thought about it for a long time, “I loved pressed pennies. Always. When I was a kid, it wasn’t an electric machine. It was a guy with a machine with a crank. He would manually press your penny. You would give him two pennies. One to flatten and one to pay. It was boiling hot when he gave it to you — the pressure of flattening it made it piping hot. It was like magic.
“When I was twelve, the Empire State Building opened. For a nickel you could go up to the top deck. For a dime you could look through a telescope. And up there, there was a man with a pressed penny machine. It was wonderful to see him there. It was this incredible, massive building with a magic view and I could watch a man press a penny. The day cost seventeen cents. That was a lot of money. I gave my penny to my sister Rebecca when I shipped out, told her to keep it safe until I came home. The coolest thing ever was the pressed penny man in the Empire State Building.”
“Wow,” said Sam. He kissed Bucky slowly, “I love you. Thank you for sharing that with me.” He started to drift off a little while later but felt Bucky get up.
Bucky didn’t go to the bathroom. He moved to the floor. Sam got up to join him. Bucky said, “You don’t have to. This isn’t a futon.”
“I like sleeping where you sleep. It’s not always you who moves to the futon and you always join me. You’re not the only one who has trouble with the bed sometimes. I want to be where you are. You’re on the floor.” Sam covered them both with the comforter. “Just breathe, close your eyes, let your body rest.”
***
Bucky seemed confused on the flight home. Sam knew now that it was confusion from not getting dumped. He smiled at Bucky and said, “I like the fjords. But I also miss Alpine and all our plants. We still have two days before Carol returns to space. We can just play with our cat; maybe knock something off your list. I want to have little breaks like this forever — you and me.” People were around, and he whispered, “Love you.” Bucky looked at him with a slight look of confusion. “What are you thinking?”
“Iceland was not what I was expecting.”
“Well, it’s summer. It’s not icy in summer,” said Sam.
They went home and cuddled with Alpine for a while. She followed them around and told them off, “meowing” at them for leaving her for eight days.
The next day, Sam said, “We have a thing to do.”
“What is it?”
“It’s something from my list, not yours,” said Sam with a smile.
Sam called an Uber. It dropped them off at the Empire State Building, and Bucky raised an eyebrow.
Sam smiled and said, “I’m trying to see all the wonders of the world. It still has a pressed penny machine.”
It cost a hell of a lot more than a nickel to get up to the observation deck. Bucky was looking around, and Sam said, “Has it changed a lot?”
“Not in any way that matters,” said Bucky.
The telescopes were free now, and they looked through all of them, taking in the views and taking their time. “Pièce de resistance,” said Sam, leading him to the pressed penny machine.
It was in a quiet corner and was kind of dusty. The modern visitors were obviously not as taken with pressed pennies as Bucky was. It gave them a modicum of privacy in the crowded place.
“I know it’s not a guy with a crank, but it does let you pick from multiple designs. Which one do you want?” Bucky laughed and picked out one, and Sam swiped his credit card. They watched through the window as the two rollers flattened a shiny penny.
Sam grabbed it out of the slot as it dropped down. He went to hand it to Bucky. But he tucked his fingers to keep holding it as he opened his hand, dropping the ring into Bucky’s palm instead of the penny. Bucky looked at the ring in confusion. “I was going to ask in Iceland, but the vibes were wrong. I want to see all the wonders of the world with you. All the joy, all the bad, everything. I want to be where you are — if it’s a floor or a futon or a bed — I want to be there forever and always. I want the fjords and pressed machines.”
“I didn’t want to see the fjords,” Bucky whispered.
“So why’d we go?” asked Sam.
“So you would dump me somewhere shitty.”
“I’m in love with you. Why would I dump you?”
“Steve did.”
“Steve’s a moron. Steve had PTSD and he tried to literally outrun it. I have it so I got a degree in how to handle it. I don’t sit around when there’s an issue. You don’t like to say love; you make our home beautiful and take care of our family. You love me. I love you. I don’t sit on my ass: I put a ring on it. I want you forever. I want you for exactly who you are. You’re my favorite person on Earth and I want to be with you for everything.”
“I didn’t dance with you because I didn’t want to have to remember it afterward,” said Bucky.
Sam smiled, “We can go dancing tonight.”
“I love you,” said Bucky softly.
“I know,” said Sam. “I love you too.”
Bucky leaned in and kissed him hard and deep, and Sam smiled into it, hugging him close. Breaking apart, Bucky said, “I love you.”
“I love you too. Will you marry me?”
“Yeah, even though you didn’t get me a penny.”
“Oh, here,” Sam gave it to him.
“It’s not hot. They usta be hot,” said Bucky.
“It was hot, here, let me do it again. We’ll get one each,” Sam swiped his credit card again, and they watched it make another pressed penny. “Get it while it’s hot.” Bucky picked it up. “Right temperature?”
“Perfect,” said Bucky. He kissed Sam again. Then he turned to the room that Sam had been ignoring. Some tourists were watching them covertly. Bucky shouted, “Hey, everyone, I’m marrying Captain America.”
Some people cheered, some people just looked confused. Sam laughed, saying, “Sarah’s gonna find out you said ‘yes’ from Twitter.”
“Y’wanna go get some frozen yogurt to celebrate?” asked Bucky.
“Yeah, frozen yogurt would be great.”