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The front door opens. “That was fast,” Sam comments. Then he looks up from his phone and frowns at Bucky. “Hey, where’s my matcha latte?”
Bucky tosses a bag of bagels onto the kitchen table. “Get it yourself,” he snaps, stalking across the room to the window and yanking the curtains shut.
“Are you serious?” Sam asks incredulously. “I specifically asked…” He trails off when he sees Bucky’s expression. “Is everything okay?”
Bucky grabs a bagel from the bag and tears off a massive chunk with his teeth. “I hate everyone,” he grumbles.
“Yeah, what else is new?” Sam rolls his eyes. “I guess I need to be more specific. Did something bad happen when you were out?”
Bucky chews his mouthful of bagel, then swallows. “I got recognized,” he mutters.
Sam tenses. “Someone who knew you as the Winter Soldier?” he asks.
“Worse,” Bucky snaps. “They knew Congressman Barnes.” He flops down on the couch next to Sam.
“What happened?”
“A lady at the bagel shop started yelling at me about how she couldn’t get healthcare because ‘politicians like me’ would rather give insurance to illegal immigrants that to "‘real Americans like her.’ I tried to explain that that wasn’t what our healthcare plan said, but she wouldn’t stop yelling until I left.” Bucky shoves the rest of the bagel into his mouth.
“Yikes,” Sam winces. “That might be the worst one yet.”
“That’s not all. Right outside the matcha place, I got swarmed by a bunch of college kids. They wanted to know how I could eat breakfast when the Republicans are currently taking a sledgehammer to democracy.” Bucky shakes his head. “I’m a junior Congressman, Sam. What did they want me to do, kidnap the entire legislative branch and lock them in the Capitol until they reopened the government?”
“That’s rough. I’m sorry.”
Bucky sighs. “I just wish they realized that I’m on their side. I want to live in a decent country, same as everyone else. But all of this is such a mess and sometimes it feels like nothing has changed since the 40s where there were facists and Nazis everywhere.” He drops his head into his hands. “I just wish there were something I could do.”
“Well,” Sam says. “I know one way you could make it feel a little less like the 40s.” Bucky looks up. “You could get us some matcha — ow!”