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Bucky stared at his phone, still reeling from Valentina’s announcement about the New Avengers, about what her actions meant for him — and the other members of the team, who, unfortunately for him, had been growing on him little by little like unwanted barnacles. He had barely been able to process all the things he saw while in the void, too focused on getting Yelena and Bob out safely, before being thrown in front of the media as a part of a shiny new team. He knew there were many people who had probably seen the news live and needed some answers from him — Gary, his congressional aides, to name a few — but all he could see was the numerous missed calls and unread messages from Sam, sitting innocuously at the top of his inbox, the most recent one from just about an hour ago, when the press conference was still ongoing.
Oh, god, Sam. What was he going to say to him?
Just a month ago Sam had spilled his heart out to him and told him about restarting the Avengers, and Bucky had looked him in the eye and told him he had nothing but utter faith in him. And now, Sam had to watch on TV as he became part of Valentina’s mad rush to control the narrative, part of a team that would undoubtedly undermine Sam’s legitimacy in setting up the Avengers. If Bucky were an average human, his hands would most likely be clammy and trembling. He felt like he was about to float away, his grip on reality slipping, something he rarely experienced since gaining some piece of serenity through the warm nights and the overwhelming kindness of the community in Delacroix those years ago, through spending time in the Wilsons’ — Sam’s — presence.
The rational part of Bucky’s brain was telling him to do something, to explain the situation to Sam. Sam would hear him out with his usual patience. He would. That was the thing about Sam; he always afforded everyone with grace that he never showed himself. Sam, who was still recovering from his fight against Ross, who probably had little to no idea what was going on, with only the news to show him the ominous darkness engulfing New York City, then abruptly receding, before seeing his partner on screen in a team being branded as the successor to the Avengers. Bucky had to reply, and he had to do it soon before things continued to get even more out of hand.
>> Buck, are you in NY?
>> Is everything ok?
>> Give me a sign of life bucky
…
>> Call me.
He had to.
Ever since that summer in Delacroix — the glances exchanged, the unspoken words, the tender moments spent sitting in silence, basking in each other’s presence — Sam and Bucky had gradually come to something of a tacit understanding that they were partners in every sense of the word, even after Bucky began taking more and more time away from the field, eventually leaving the fighting to Sam (and Joaquín) as he figured out what he wanted to do now that he was free. While they were technically no longer coworkers, they were undoubtedly more than a couple of guys with a mutual friend who had left, and they knew they had each other’s backs. Or at least, Sam thought they did, until Sarah called him over to watch the aerial view of some weird black cloud swallowing up Manhattan being shown on the news.
As shaky footage of the unsettling phenomenon played across the TV screen, Sam was hit by an intense wave of worry. Was Bucky in New York? The last text from him was about tracking down some entity or whatnot that could serve as evidence to support claims that Valentina had signed off on human experimentation, amongst other illicit activities, but Bucky hadn’t said where he was going, and Sam had trusted Bucky knew how to take care of himself. He now deeply regretted not asking for more details. He tried dialling Bucky’s number, letting it ring as he prayed Bucky was far away from whatever was going on, but it went to voicemail. Heart in his throat, Sam texted, “Buck, are you in NY?” A few minutes passed, and there was no indication that Bucky had read his message. Sam continued to text him every few minutes, dread building as his messages continued to go unread. He was seriously contemplating putting on his spare set of wings and flying over, still-aching ribs and barely healed arm be damned, when suddenly, the darkness vanished and all was well.
Or so it seemed, until the news cut to Valentina, who began speaking, “For years, I have been working secretly to develop a new age of protection.” Sam did a double take as the camera zoomed out to show the line of people standing behind her. That was Bucky, standing in between a dark-haired lady and a tall bald man. A blonde woman was in the lineup too, looking vaguely familiar, but all Sam could focus on was Bucky. Bucky was alive, and he was in one piece. Sam felt a wave of tension release from his body, relief almost overwhelming him, until he heard Valentina’s next words. “Today, the citizens of the United States needed that protection, and thanks to my hard work, they got it. Ladies and gentlemen, meet the New Avengers.” Sam stared at the TV, feeling a vague sense of incredulity, and wondered if he had heard correctly. The New Avengers? Assembled by Valentina Allegra de Fontaine, Director of the CIA, who had been facing impeachment? Was this a joke?
Then, an insidious thought occurred to Sam. Did Bucky agree to this? Sam shook his head and tried to banish that thought. Bucky was deeply involved in the impeachment campaign against Valentina. Sam knew Bucky would never — knowing Valentina’s extremely dubious history, especially with human experimentation to create a super person — willingly join forces with her. He knew. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder what this meant for him, for the team he was intending to put together. The team that Bucky knew he wanted to put together. Sam had thought that Bucky wanted to leave his fighting days behind, and it hadn’t even occurred to him to ask Bucky to rejoin his future team of Avengers in fear of ruining his hard-earned peace. Sam knew how hard it was for Bucky to go from one fight to another, but he was starting to doubt his course of action. Should he have asked? Had Bucky been waiting for him to ask? Was he in this team now because he hadn’t? How recent of a development was this?
Sam recognised that he was starting to spiral, and he took a moment to gather himself. He had all these questions he needed answers to, and he wished Bucky wasn’t over a thousand miles from him so he could ask them to his face and Bucky couldn't run away or avoid him like he did after the Blip. So, Sam settled for the next best thing and texted Bucky, “Call me.”
Unsure if Sam was busy, Bucky texted him, “u free?” Without receiving a reply, Bucky’s phone started ringing. He steeled himself and pressed the answer button.
“Sam?”
“You alright, Buck? Saw you looking a little banged up.” Sam’s voice was deceptively light. If Bucky hadn’t known Sam so well — possibly even better than he knew himself —, he would have thought nothing about Sam’s words. But he could hear the tiniest strain in his voice, and knew that Sam clearly had something weighing on him; Bucky knew exactly what it was about.
“Yeah, I mean there was some weird shit going on… No aliens or androids or wizards though, so I guess that’s a point against you. Just Bob.” Somehow, three years on, and they still bickered over Sam’s (nonsensical, Bucky would argue) categorisation of trouble that found Earth.
“Bob?” Bucky could hear the curiosity in Sam’s voice.
“Turns out Valentina was really conducting some super illegal human experiments,” Bucky explained. “Bob seems to be the only one to have survived. Some part of him caused the void to happen, but he doesn’t remember anything about it.”
Sam hummed in acknowledgement, then asked, “So will you be using that as evidence against Valentina? I know she was definitely trying to clean up her image with you guys. The New Avengers, huh?”
Bucky inhaled sharply. Straight to the point, but ever so gentle. “Sammy… I really didn’t know she was going to pull a stunt like this.”
“I know. I know you wouldn’t have gone along if you’d known about it beforehand.”
As Sam spoke, something in Bucky loosened. He had known of Sam's heart of gold for a long time now, but being on the receiving end of Sam’s unwavering faith in everyone, especially him, always flooded him with so much warmth it almost ached. “I wouldn’t have,” Bucky agreed, blinking hard as he tried to swallow the sudden lump in his throat. “I just… She’s trying to control everything and us, and we’re going to have to fight to get it back. And… Sam, the people in the team, Bob, and Yelena — she’s Natasha’s sister —, Ava, and even Walker, they’ve worked for her. They did some pretty bad shit, and if it gets out, they might be ruined. But they seem to really want to do good, be good…” Like you goes unsaid, but Bucky thinks it anyway.
“Oh… I knew she looked familiar. Nat used to carry a photo around, and I think I recognise her.” Sam paused. “It’s great that they want to help… But Bucky, you know what happened the last time the government tried to stick their fingers into Avengers business. And it’s probably even worse now because it’s Valentina who’s in charge.”
“I know, Sam, I just need time to figure out how to minimise the damage to the team. I swear I’ll try my best to solve this, Sammy,” Bucky promised. “I’ve always been rooting for you to lead the Avengers, and I’d never do anything to compromise that. If I had to join any team, it’d be yours.”
“I know, Buck. I trust you.” Sam sounded tired, but Bucky could almost picture the small smile on his face. “Come home soon? I’m still kinda sore from Ross and I feel like we haven’t seen each other in ages.”
Bucky felt another burst of warmth spread over his heart. They might have separate houses, but he knew that the compass in his heart would always point him back to Sam, to home. “You missed me that much, huh?” Bucky teased. “I guess I’ll stop by and nurse Captain America back to health. Anyway, I deserve a break after this mess.”
Sam’s laughter made Bucky break into a small smile, the first he’d had in a while. “I wonder what Congressman Barnes’s Brooklyn constituents would do if they found out he’s at Captain America’s beck and call?” Sam teased back.
“Sweetheart, I’m not sure if they’d even care. And what would they do? Impeach me?”
“You’re not being a very good congressman now, Mr Barnes,” Sam replied. “See you soon?”
“I’ll be on the first flight I can get on," Bucky said, smile still refusing to leave his face. "I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”
There were a thousand and one things that Bucky knew he was going to have a hard time fixing, but everything seemed a lot less pressing and stressful in the face of the promise of being under one roof with Sam again.