Chapter Text
James Buchanan Barnes was a lot of things, a soldier, a friend, a survivor. He was born at the end of the First World War, fought in the Second, survived Nazis and Hydra, learned to live in a brand new century without his best friend, witnessed the rise and fall of history.
He is strong. He is resilient. He is a Soldier. He is not a quitter.
He believes. He believes in standing his ground, especially when it came to proving his point. He believes in fighting for what is right, now that he has a choice. Which is what led him to now, walking down Main Street, engaged in an argument with his partner, Sam Wilson, on what should have been a lovely spring afternoon;
“Man you are so wrong for that!”
Bucky could already feel a headache forming behind his eyes, annoyed at Sam’s lack of basic comprehension skills, “I am not wrong Sam! I chose the only correct solution to the problem”
“There was a correct solution and you just went and chose a solution that’s wrong and won’t admit it,” Sam emphasises his point by knocking his fist lightly against Buckys shoulder, “there’s a lot I can excuse with you having brain damage and all but come on even a child could see that you’re wrong”
“You cannot argue with me of all people about the best strategy in a fight”
“The best strategy? I doubt it even counts as a strategy! You’re clearly not thinking straight”
“I considered the tactical advantages and disadvantages and told you what the overall conclusion was.”
Bucky pulled a face at Sam that was definitely not childish because he wouldn’t do that he is 110 years old he would never stoop so low
“Wooowww pulling faces? How mature,” Sam said, pulling an equally childish face back.
“I’m sorry you were raised to believe that that is an acceptable thing to believe in but I’m still right”
Sam scoffed, raising his eyebrows amusedly, “I know we’re not about to change this into who had a better upbringing. Just admit you’re wrong and I’ll let it go”, he lied, knowing full well he would not let it go.
The pair continued to bicker all the way down Main Street, tourists were shocked to see Captain America arguing loudly with The Winter Soldier in public. Locals decided this was not the weirdest thing to happen in Washington recently, since there were no visible threats or weapons they chose to ignore them and look the other way.
Oblivious to this the duo continued
“So out of the two possibilities you still chose that one?” Sam asked, incredulously.
“Gandalf is so much better than Dumbledore, he’d obviously win in a fight”, Bucky retorts back heatedly
Sam stops walking to grab Bucky by the shoulders, shaking him lightly “Gandalf would not beat Dumbledore in a fight!” Throwing one hand out in what can only be assumed is either an incredibly vulgar hand gesture, or an invisible wand, “Dumbledore has the magic of the Elder Wand man, Gandalf is like what, an insanely old man who talks to dwarves?!”
“They’re hobbits, not dwarves,” Bucky knocks Sam’s other hand off his shoulder, and keeps walking across the sidewalk, “Dumbledore’s old as well, and he has children fight on his behalf- also just because it’s called Dumbledore’s army it doesn’t mean it’s his, Harry made that army-“
“-From Dumbledore’s orders!”
“He didn’t order shit! At least Gandalf uses adult hobbits not kids like the other guy”
This warrants Sam to let out a indignant scoff,
“Not to mention that even though Dumbledore had access to the philosophers stone if he wanted it, he let it go back to Nicolas Flamel AND then when he dies he stays dead. Gandalf was sent by the Gods,and when he died he at least comes back as Gandalf the White”
“How do you know so much about Harry Potter and the Hobbit?”
“…I had a lot of free time in Wakanda”
There’s a beat of silence between them before they both burst out laughing. It takes a minute for them to calm down, laughing and walking is a harder task than it appears to be, before continuing their walk in friendly silence.
Bucky doesn’t really remember how this argument started, when they left their house just before noon to go get some air, they were catching up about the last week. Sam hadn’t been staying in his shared house with Bucky- he moved in with Sam, not long after he became the new Cap, deciding his New York apartment was too far to travel everyday, and Sam had a spare room. He got offered, who was he to say no?- he’d been looking after his nephews whilst Sarah had to go out of town to discuss a business deal with a different company, which left Bucky bored and alone in the too empty and large house for what felt like a lifetime despite it only being about 5 or so days. If he was being completely honest with himself he was a little annoyed Sam didn’t let him come, he liked Sam’s nephews they reminded him faintly of his sister they’re good kids.
They started their walk with Sam prattling on about how much taller AJ had gotten since he last saw him and how Cass was doing well in school, oh and they both wanted to know where their ‘Uncle Bucky’ was and how they missed him- and if that made Bucky feel a little stab of pride for actually being a positive influence in those kids lives, well, that’s no one’s business but his. How they got onto the topic of the Hobbit Vs Harry Potter he doesn’t actually know, if he thought really hard then he’d remember Sam talking about how hard it was to fight against the mess of the boys’ rooms to which he’d respond “one does not simply walk into Mordor” in a really bad Boromir impression.
“-cky? Are you even listening to me man?”
“Hmm? Sorry I wasn’t listening, you just kept talking so all I heard was you have bad taste in wizards”
“Aha! You’ve finally admitted wizards are real”
“What? I- no,” Bucky sighed.
“Nah im just messing with you Buck,” Sam laughed lightly, bumping his shoulder into Buckys, “so you wanna grab some dinner? I’m starving and there’s this new place that just opened a couple of blocks from here that I have been dying to check out.” Sam added already rounding a corner in the direction of the food place he wanted. Bucky was glad that he didn’t have to continue the argument they’ve been having for… longer than he’s willing to admit, the sun was high in the sky when they started and now it was almost time for it to set
Bucky shrugged, and just kept following Sam, “I could eat,” was all he said in response
The walk over was quiet, Sam too focused on not getting lost so he could get his dinner and Bucky wasn’t talking for 2 reasons, first he was still mad at Sam for thinking Gandalf would lose in a fight to Dumbledore, he’s loved that wizard since 1937, he’s attached, sue him. Secondly, he was just enjoying the company, granted he’d rather die before admitting that to Sam, but it was true he hated being alone.
Before and during the war, he’d always had Steve, his best friend, they protected eachother he was never more than an arms length away if he could help it, the constant companionship a slim silver lining amist the smoke of the ever falling bombs. When he was in Hydra, there was always some scientist or doctor in the room- sure they’d poke and prod and punch, experimenting until he was just shell and then torturing him just for their own sadistic pleasure. No company in Hydra was never good, he knew they would be.. observing, lines and lines of scientists with clipboards and notebooks, waiting to enter and try again, like he was a interchangeable variable to them but, he’d still take the pain of the experiments over the silence- it reminded him he was still alive. When he was free he had Steve again and the Wakandans, it was like the sun was finally breaking through the clouds after a terrible storm, now he has Sam. Losing that company made him feel claustrophobic, the walls in the too big apartment became small, the air felt tight. Part of him expecting the next experiment or attack or abandonment or- or- but he wasn’t alone now. He can breathe, stop the walls from collapsing in, and it wasn’t much but it would do and he was happy about that? That felt like a shock to his system, did he just admit he enjoyed Sam’s company? Sure they lived together and worked together but he’d always had that absentminded feeling of annoyance towards the other man. But-
“Yo grandpa,” no never mind, there was the feeling of annoyance, “you gonna pay attention when crossing the road or are you trying to see if being a robot means you don’t get dented by cars?”
“Shut up”
They waited for the crossing lights to flash green, because only an idiot with a death wish would cross at a pedestrian crossing with cars still whizzing past in Washington before the traffic lights told them to. The lights flashed to green, the image of a green walking man popping up on the overhead lights, and Sam, Bucky and about 25 other people started to cross the road. Sam, who doesn’t trust drivers around here, double checks anyway that no cars are about to send him flying on his ass before crossing, a stark contrast to Bucky who thinks he’d probably be able to walk off being hit by a car just walks ahead with the rest of the crowd.
Sam catches up just a step behind Bucky, “You cross the road like you have a death wish”
“I’ve survived world war 2, Hydras brainwashing, and half of the planet tracking me down.” He levels Sam with a dry expression, “If I die because I crossed the road, I deserve to die.”
Sam placed a hand over his heart in mock grief, “Bucky Barnes, a war survivor and steering wheel hater, taken from us too soon by an old Honda Civic,” he wiped a fake tear from his eye, “he will be missed.”
Biting back a small laugh Bucky rolled his eyes in equally mock annoyance, mumbling, “you pull one steering wheel off a moving car,” before adding louder, “so you admit you’d miss me?”
“Ha as if, with you gone my stress levels would return to a normal level”
They burst out laughing again.
They continued walking, a left here a right there until they came up to another set of lights
“So if we cross here then it’s just at the end of the street”, Sam said, looking at the maps on his phone, Bucky nodded silently in acknowledgment.
As they waited a minute for the lights to change, the dull drone of traffic ebbed into the concentrated hush, “After we cross I think it’s the next left.. or is it right? Anyway Buck, last week was so weird AJ tried to sneak a beer with me. A beer?! He’s 13! When I was 13-”The lights flashed green.
They both stepped out to cross the road, Sam was still idly talking about his week away. Bucky was only half paying attention until he felt something press against the palm of his right hand, on instinct he tensed slightly as he walked. Glancing down he saw… Sam, who appeared oblivious to what just happened, holding his hand. That couldn’t be right, Sam was a man, so was Bucky. That does not happen, not in public anyway, rarely behind closed doors really. Regardless Sam was holding his hand, in public. They were public figures, Bucky knew what happened to people who were openly… that way inclined, it was never good. What if someone saw them? Formed a wrong idea? Bucky was in the army he knew how dangerous forming an idea like that could be. Faltering for apparently a moment too long, the hand holding his lightly tugged on his arm to get him walking again, he.. let it happen- stopping completely in the middle of the road was a safety hazard after all.
As soon as Bucky saw the sidewalk under his feet again, he pulled his hand from Sam’s like it burned him. Looking at the space their hands just were as if a crime was just committed. (Well to him, a crime was committed)
Sam, who felt a pull on his arm looked down, eyes slightly widening and eyebrows raising as he realised what just happened
“What the hell was that man?!” Bucky half whisper-yelled tightly.
Sam looked a little taken aback by how annoyed Bucky seemed, “Woah I’m sorry man, my brain must have gone on autopilot after looking after the boys all week.” He laughed lightly, “Surprised I haven’t gone grey, seriously those kids have no road safety skills.” After a beat of unmoving silence he continued with a more serious tone, “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I didn’t mean to”
Just as he expected, he got no response, he apologised quietly again before continuing walking he could see Buck following him silently in his peripheral. It was silent, tense for an agonisingly long moment. Buckys head was still reeling with what ifs and Sam was trying to figure out what why his friend was so stressed, until he realised.
He lightly grabbed Buckys arm and steered him to a less busy part of the sidewalk, “Nothings going to happen man.”
Bucky just sniffed sharply in response, finding a crack on the floor particularly interesting right now.
“Look I don’t want to overstep but if you’re annoyed because you’re deflecting something else,” Sam raised his hands placatingly “and correct me if I’ve made a wrong assumption man but,” he took a breath, “you know it’s legal now? Right? Sure there are still some assholes out there but it’s not a crime, not anymore. So, we good?”
It took a moment before Bucky looked up, “Yeah.” It was clipped but true.
Sam smiled, smaller than usual but just as bright, “great ‘cos we’re here and I am starving man”
Deciding a subject change was needed, Sam started retelling a story about his week away, something to do with Cass and having his first crush, Sam prattled on mindlessly as he turned to walk into the restaurant “I’m telling you man he went so red, do you know how hard it was to keep a straight face? It was adorable”
Eventually at some point during the meal, Bucky felt himself smiling and laughing again. It wasn’t a crime.