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Four hours and twelve minutes. That's how long it took to drive from Manhattan to Washington D.C.
Bucky could have taken the jet, but this particular trip was a personal one. Val knew, and hadn't bothered to stop him; on the contrary, she seemed thrilled at the prospect of him reasoning with Captain America. Bucky didn't care.
The car he took was a modest one, something subtle and navy blue. He wasn't trying to draw attention to himself as he pulled up to the apartment building. The last thing Bucky needed was to give the press a field day over this.
Even after he arrived and turned the car off, he didn't move. He had contemplated the whole way what he would say, but nothing sounded right. Hell, Bucky didn't even know what the goal of this visit was; all he knew was that they had to talk.
Eventually, he managed to exit the car, metal fingers curling around the door handle and pushing it open. He was quick to enter the building, dressed in civilian clothes with an inconspicuous hat shielding his eyes from passersby.
Bucky knew how to navigate his way through the building. He could find the right door blindfolded with his hands tied behind his back. But even when he reached his destination, he didn't knock. He wanted to, but he couldn't quite move his arms.
He still didn't know what to say, but that didn't matter anymore.
It didn't matter because all of a sudden, the door opened, and there he was, dressed in an old sweatshirt and black shorts. No shoes. His brown eyes were piercing, but somehow still kind as always. His face was unreadable, a hint of resignation and slight relief flickering in his features. The sunlight that streamed from the window cast a faint golden glow that outlined his figure.
Bucky swallowed.
"Are you just gonna stand there, or..." It was a dry attempt at jest, overshadowed by the thick tension that hung dangerously between them.
"Um. Yeah." Bucky finally found it in himself to move.
Sam Wilson stepped aside to let him in.
Bucky surveyed the apartment; it hadn't changed much since last time. He turned his head to Sam, who was gazing out the window, studying the setting sun silently.
Finally, Sam spoke.
"Why are you here?"
Bucky sighed. "C'mon, Sam. You know why--"
"No," Sam cut in, turning to face Bucky, his tone neither harsh nor soft, "I don't. So explain."
Bucky found himself at a loss for words. "I--well, I didn't want this conversation to be a phone call."
"What conversation?" Sam was being so infuriatingly formal and diplomatic, and Bucky was exhausted from the drive, so he couldn't stop himself from snapping, "Christ, Sam, this isn't the time to play therapist!"
Sam stilled, gaze hardening. "Then leave, because I'm not fighting you. I made my choice, you made yours. And yeah, it would've been nice to get a heads up instead of seeing it on the news, but you've always been full of surprises, Barnes."
"At least hear me out, Sam, please." Bucky hated the sound of his voice, close to begging and strained, but he wasn't about to back down.
Sam hesitated, eyes boring into Bucky's. Bucky held his gaze, sincerity ringing through.
"Fine." He moved to sit on his couch, waving a hand for Bucky to follow suit.
Once they were settled, Bucky spoke.
"You know I was building a case against Valentina..."
Bucky proceeded to explain what happened since the hearing, up until Valentina's dirty trick to get them in front of the cameras and introduce the team as the New Avengers. Sam was a good listener, of course, expression rising and falling with each detail. Bucky even managed to get the occasional chuckle out of him. Sam's face was thoughtful, eyebrows furrowing here and there, but overall, he never said a word. Throughout Bucky's recounting of the story, the two men stayed on opposite ends of the couch. It was a minor detail that Bucky had noted, but didn't dare to question.
"...and since then, all we've done so far is move in," Bucky explained. He tried to read Sam's poker face, but true to form, it was unreadable.
"So... just to make sure I heard you correctly, Valentina tricked you into being on a team with Nat's sister, her father, Ghost, John Walker, and this guy, Bob, who's actually a former addict struggling with severe mental health issues and bipolar disorder who signed up for a top-secret government project and become Sentry, an all-powerful being who nearly destroyed New York?" Sam's face remained unreadable.
"Basically."
"And you're going along with this for what reason, exactly?"
Bucky sighed. "Look, it's the only way I--we can control her. Keep an eye on her activities, gather evidence to expose her--"
"Expose her?" Sam stood up, shaking his head. "Bucky, you didn't think for a second that it would've been smart to expose her the second she declared you guys the New Avengers? Undermine her credibility then, in front of all the cameras?"
Bucky frowned. "Did you not just hear what I said?"
"I heard what you said. And I think this plan is not only dangerous, but could have been over with if you had just called her out then."
"Well, it's not your damn plan, Sam," Bucky snapped, irritated.
"Well, it sure somehow affected me without asking!" Sam's voice was on edge. "Fuck, I stuck my neck out for you twice, risking my life and going up against the government god knows how many times, and this is how you thank me?"
"Fuck off, Sam, we're not talking about those times."
"Really? Because I seem to recall both of us fighting alongside Steve against the Accords so the Avengers would not be working with the government, and not only do you go work with them, but you also undermine my credibility by going along with a name taken from a team that I am actively assembling!"
"I didn't fuckin' ask for this, Sam!" Bucky shot back. "I didn't think it would go this way, but my back was against the wall and that was the best way out!"
"I didn't ask for this either," Sam replied coldly. "Steve gave me the shield and the title. I didn't ask for it, to be the new Captain America in a nation that was looking for a carbon copy, blond-haired, blue-eyed man as Steve's successor."
Bucky relented. "I know. I know you didn't. I'm just asking you to understand, alright?"
Sam sighed. "Yeah. I just--I thought we were in this together. But then, the next thing I hear is you're with them, and not so much as a phone call."
A fresh wave of guilt washed over Bucky's face. "We are. And I'm sorry. I've been so caught up with everything in Congress and with Val, I haven't had a chance to actually be with you. Keep you updated." Bucky paused. "I miss you."
Sam couldn't help but smile. "Missed you too, Buck."
Silence hung in the air, but most of the tension had evaporated. There was so much more to say, but at the end of the day, Sam couldn't stay mad at Bucky. Not after all they'd been through. Not after everything.
Sam glanced at the time. It was nearing six-thirty. He looked back at Bucky, who seemed unsure of what to do.
"Dinner?" He offered his hand to Bucky.
"Sounds good," Bucky replied, taking it with a grin.