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It’s tough. Feeling like he’s living in a shadow. Like there’s this weight on his shoulders that just keeps getting heavier, and he’s just waiting for his knees to give out.
The weight of the world. Not so easy to bear, some days. Most days, if he’s being honest.
But Sam keeps standing.
And standing beside him is Bucky, and he doesn’t want to admit it—but having Bucky beside him helps.
There’s something grounding about Bucky. His shoulder feels lighter when Bucky rests his hand upon it, his grasp warm, his stare holding steady.
Moments pass.
Bucky remains, permanent.