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If you had asked Sam how he thought this whole Insight-HYDRA-Winter Soldier thing was going to end, he certainly wouldn’t have said this if you gave him 100 years to come up with ideas. Yet here he was, on the banks of the Potomac, his friend unconscious and beaten on the dirt and said friend’s boyfriend-turned-brainwashed-assassin holding his hand like he hadn’t just tried to kill the man. At least Barnes looked unarmed. Sam didn’t know how accurate that assessment was (he knew Natasha after all), but it was a start.
“He okay?” Sam called as he approached. Spooking this guy seemed like a bad idea. Life ending bad idea. Barnes, for his part, just glared at him like he was missing a billboard directly in front of his face.
“You’re right, that’s a stupid question. Dude looks like he went five rounds with a prize fighter.” He didn’t miss Barnes’ flinch. Guilt probably. So at least the guy seemed to be back in his own head to some degree. Sam could work with that. “Is he alive?”
Looking away and hiding behind his hair before nodding. Okay good, Steve was alive. And Sam was right. Barnes seemed to feel bad about the situation. That didn’t line up with what they knew about his HYDRA programming.
“I'd like to check on him. Look at his wounds. I'm gonna approach real slow, hands where you can see them.”
A nod at his legs where he had guns holstered.
“I can't give up my guns, I think you know that. But look, they're holstered right? And I know damn well you're faster than me. Plus, they both got their safeties on. I'm gonna assume you're like Steve and you got some stupid good vision. I'm gonna spin in a nice slow circle. You'll see all I got is the two and they have the safety engaged.” Sam could feel the weight of Barnes’ eyes as he did what he said, but this wasn't his first go with a skittish man trained to kill. He knew how to do this. Once he finished, Barnes seemed satisfied and gave a hesitant nod of approval.
“Okay, so,” he started as he closed the gap between him and his friend. “I'm just gonna check where he's hurt, see what kinda help the big lug needs. I was a medic, so I know enough for that, even if I don't have the gear to patch him right now.” Gray eyes followed every move he made with analytical precision as his fingers trailed Steve's face and body, ensuring no sudden moves were made, no harm came to Steve. He'd seen that look in other soldiers’ eyes in the field, watched by comrades of men he helped as they bled into the desert sand. It was a look he was too familiar with and hoped he would never see again once he retired. One he never wanted directed at him while kneeling over a friend.
Broken cheekbone, some lacerations that’ll need to be sewn up, broken ribs, puncture wounds, GSW, Barnes stroking his good cheek—Wait, Barnes stroking his cheek? His focus broken, Sam looked up to see a single tear streaking through the grime on Barnes’ face.
“Hey, man, don’t worry about this idiot. All his wounds look like they’ll heal just fine, and with all that mojo running through his veins, he’s probably already on his way, okay? Steve’s gonna be just fine. I’ve seen him walk away from worse.” A derisive snort from Barnes. “Yeah he isn’t exactly the most careful, is he?” There was a hint of mirth in the other man’s eyes, the first expression of emotion that wasn’t fear or shame.
With Steve’s condition evaluated, Sam finally gave Barnes a once over. He was clearly tense, beyond just the situation. His artificial hand was in Steve’s, but he was holding his right arm close to his body, the shoulder at an awkward angle, his breathing also coming in shallow, and only one leg folded towards himself. He was hurting but holding it close to himself. Sam wasn’t sure if he was trained to ignore it, ignoring it to avoid looking weak in front of a stranger, or too focused on Steve to care, but it was clear he’d need to be looked at too.
“You’re lookin’ a lil rough yourself. Mind if I take a look?” Welp, the frightened animal look Sam received seemed like an obvious enough ‘no’ if he’d ever seen one. “Alright, alright, I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to. I do need to call a friend. Just the one. I’ll have her pick the three of us up, We’ll head to a safe house, and I can patch him up with supplies there, okay? You can stay with him, just not here. Any longer and the government’s gonna come down on us.” The very hesitant nod he got in response was accompanied by very clear tightening of Barnes’ hand around Steve’s. Yeah there was no in hell anyone was going to be able to separate these two any time soon.
•·················•·················•
The man with wings kept his word. Bucky got to stay with Steve without anyone interfering. The spider kept eyeing him like a bomb about to go off, but that didn’t matter. He’d never hurt Steve again. And these two were helping Steve, so he wouldn’t do anything to them. Not unless they tried to hurt Steve or take him away. If he lost Steve again, not only would They take him back and make him forget, he wouldn’t be able to learn how to be a person again, and most importantly, he couldn’t make up for all the hurt he’d caused Steve, and Steve is what mattered more than anyone, especially Bucky.
“Hey, so I showed you I’m not gonna take Steve and I helped him just like I said I would. Would it be okay if I took a look at you now? I’m sure your broken bones will heal fine if you’re like him, but I’d like to put that arm back into socket.”
«Who are you?»
“What?” Great, the man with wings didn’t sign and Bucky’s voice didn’t work. This was going to be annoying.
“He asked who you are.” Well, not his first choice but someone besides Stevie could understand him. That was... something, at least.
“You understood that?”
“Yeah, it’s just ASL. Clint’s got partial hearing loss, remember?”
“But then how does he know it?”
“Rogers was deaf in one ear before the serum.” The spider looked smug at knowing something the man with wings didn’t. Bucky didn’t know if she was arrogant or if it was an earned confidence, but he didn’t like it. The man with wings had been nice so far and she should be treating him better.
«Who are you?» His eyes narrowed on her, gaze turning icy.
“I’m Natalia Romanova. But the Americans call me Natasha or Nat. And he’s Sam Wilson. Steve is our friend and my coworker. Though I guess thanks to both of our previous employers, three of the four of us need new jobs.”
«Not my employer. I had no more choice to be with them than you had in being a spider. They can all die.» He was essentially shouting at her, each large, one handed sign more painful than the last, but the fact someone who’d been subjected to Leviathan would even imply he’d been with Them willingly was insulting at minimum.
“Okay, first of all, you’re gonna hurt your shoulder signin’ that agitated. Second, what the hell is going on?” Bucky didn’t have to turn to the man with wings—Sam to hear the concern and confusion.
“Well he isn’t happy about the implication he joined HYDRA willingly-”
“No shit, Nat-”
“And he knows who I used to be.” Her words clipped and her face hard showed Bucky that maybe she was understanding him at least. Because no one chose what They did to him.
«Sam can fix my arm. After, I want to be left alone until Stevie wakes up.» His eyes finally returned to Stevie as Natalia interpreted to Sam. A nod when Sam asked if he was ready, no show of pain as his shoulder was fix, and he heard footsteps retreat. He could tell they were still in the one room building with him, but at least they were giving him his space.
«I’m so sorry I hurt you, sweetheart. Never again.» He finally let himself cry, his face in Stevie’s shoulder until exhaustion took over
•·················•·················•
“So what do you think?” Nat whispered to him once it looked like Barnes was asleep.
“I don’t know, man. I don’t think antagonizin’ him and playin’ mind games is gonna help, though. He’s smart, observant, and most of all, scared. I don’t think he’s violent but he might be if we try to separate them, and I bet anyone who tries to hurt Steve is gonna lose more than a finger. I also know grown men don’t just develop mutism and if he’s enhanced like he seems he is, I doubt the issue is physical. Dude is messed up six ways to Sunday.” Honestly, it was a wonder he wasn’t worse off. The little they’d learned already was enough to make Sam sick.
“So you don’t think he’s dangerous?” Nat looked skeptical.
“Oh, I think he’s plenty dangerous. But so am I, so are you, so is Rogers. But I don’t think he’s a threat to us as long as no one fucks with his man,” he shrugged.
“His man?” Her head snapped back to the other two men so fast, Sam couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him.
“What, you thought he was just being cuddly? Nah, the way Steve tells it, they’ve been together since they were teenagers. Barnes being a ladies’ man was a cover and the Peggy stuff was mostly exaggeration. They never got very far during the war. You of all people should know how stories get warped. Plus what they were doing was illegal and no one wanted a blue ticket.”
“That explains a few things. Also. A blue ticket?”
“They call it ‘Other Than Honorable Discharge’ now. It means there’s something wrong with you. In Steve’s time, it was usually Black and gay men gettin’ em. Can’t find work after an Other than Honorable, either. And back home, you’d be arrested if you weren’t beaten to death if you got caught with another man. History isn’t kind to the marginalized. Add to that Steve being the poor son of an Irish immigrant in a time when the Irish were seen as dirt and Barnes being Jewish during the Holocaust, they were so careful they never even told their mothers.” Sam knew what it was like to live in a world built to keep him out, but that fear compounded the way it was for them? It sounded exhausting and he didn’t know how they did it.
“How do you know all this?” Nat was eyeing him like a puzzle she couldn’t solve, her tone dripping with disbelief and offense.
“I know my history, I listen to what he says, and I don’t spend my off time trying to set him up with women he has no interest in. Standard friend shit,” he leveled at her.
•·················•·················•
Steve felt like he’d been hit by a truck. Repeatedly. Plus everything itched as he felt bones knit back together. As much as he loved his healing factor and the fact that he no longer had a dozen things wrong with him, this part was the worst. Usually he slept through the worst of it, so he wasn’t sure why he was awake now, except—
Someone was holding his hand. No one has held his hand since 1945. Not since—
“Bucky?” He can’t believe his eyes. After he fell into the river, he was sure he’d never see Bucky again, yet here the man was, laying on his shoulder. The sight of tear tracks broke his heart as Bucky’s head shot up.
«Stevie? Are you okay? I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.» He wasn’t sure why Bucky was signing instead of speaking, but found he didn’t care beyond the initial confusion. His Bucky was here, was communicating, and remembered him. That’s what mattered most.
“Shhh, lovebug, It’s okay, I’m okay,” he cooed, ignoring the pain in his side as he reached to wipe the fresh tears. The initial flinch hurt his heart, but the relief of Bucky leaning into instead of away from him was like a balm over that wound. They’d be okay.
«It’s not okay. I hurt you. I promised I’d never be like the others and I broke that promise. I hurt you. I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, sunshine.» The tears came faster and Steve could feel his own eyes prickling. Bucky blaming himself is the opposite of what he wanted.
“You listen to me, Bucky Barnes. You broke no promises. You didn’t hurt me, HYDRA did,” Steve didn’t miss the way Bucky flinches at the mention of his captures, “so there’s nothin’ for you to apologize for and nothin’ for me to forgive, I won’t be listenin’ to that booshwash any more, you hear me?” He was met with a shocked expression before Bucky threw himself into Steve’s arms, silently sobbing. Ignoring his ribs’ protests was an easy decision as he held the shaking man, one hand cradling his head, the other rubbing small circles between his shoulder blades.
“Did he just call the Steve Rogers ‘sunshine’?” He hadn’t even noticed Nat standing in the corner.
“And what the hell is booshwash?” Or Sam sitting on the other side of his bed. Just like when they were kids, Bucky made the world melt away.
“It means ‘bullshit’ and yeah he did. Ma used to call me her sunshine boy, and Buck kinda picked it up. What’s wrong with him? Why isn’t he talking?” Bucky sobbed against his chest at his questioning of Sam.
“He’s said plenty. Told off Nat. Why he’s signin’ instead of vocalizing, I don’t know, but I don’t think it’s physical. He drank water just fine so his throat is fine, and he’s healing only slightly slower than you. My guess? Trauma. Man’s been through some shit, you know that,” Sam speculated, leaning back in his chair as he crossed his arms. “Also, ain’t it a lil rude to be talkin’ about him like he isn’t layin’ right there?”
“You’re right. Sorry, Buck. You okay? How’s your arm?”
«Sam fixed my arm, I’m okay. With you, I’m always okay.»
“How’d y’all learn how to sign, anyway?”
“The woman across the hall who watched me when Ma worked doubles was Deaf. When scarlet fever took the hearing in my left ear, Buck learned too, so we wouldn’t wake our parents when we slept over at each others’. We kept it up when we started sneaking around.” Bucky started hyperventilating in his arms at his last statement. “Shh, it’s okay, Buck. Sam already knows. And it’s okay now. No one can arrest us anymore. They even let guys like us marry now. There’s a minority who’ll have some shit to say, but we can take ‘em. But we won’t get in trouble for being us. We’re safe now.” He could feel Bucky physically deflate as he dropped a kiss on the top of his head. It took a while but eventually Bucky fell back asleep. After everything that’s happened, he couldn’t blame him for being tired.
•·················•·················•
“You know, if you’d told me you were gay, I’d have changed my tactics,” Nat started. She hoped her nonchalance was convincing, but Sam was always so level and Steve had his stupid Captain America mask back on as soon as she started talking. He may not be a good liar, but he was good at the whole impassive thing. Maybe it was the Catholicism, maybe it was the USO tours. Whatever the cause, it was annoying.
“Didn’t I already tell you he’s not gay?” Well, Sam was level unless you messed with Steve, apparently. She just pointedly nodded her head at where the Winter Soldier was curled into Steve’s chest like a sick child.
“I’m not gay, Nat. I don’t judge romantic interest based on what’s between someone’s legs, though I like men more than women. I’m also not usually interested in what’s between their legs very often. Casual was never my thing. That’s something you never seemed to understand.” He sounded tired, but Nat had no quarter left to give. She thought they were friends. Yet this new guy, and nothing against Sam, knew more about Steve than she did. Where was the trust?
“And he does?”
“Yes, he does. Sam doesn’t give a shit that I didn’t want to date. Bucky and I were together for over a decade, knew each other for a decade longer. And for everyone else, he’d been gone for 70 years, but for me, it’d been only a few months between losing him and waking up in a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility. I woke up and everything I knew was gone, I was still mourning him, and the only people I knew amounted to a CO and other agents. I had to adjust to jumping forward through some of the most rapid technological advancements in history, alone. Finally, I mostly settled, but still everyone I knew were coworkers or commanders. But at least I could start grieving him. And the entire time, you’re shoving dates I told you I didn’t want down my throat. I told Sam I wasn’t interested in being set up. He said okay, asked me why, and dropped it.” Well, shit. He was starting to cry, even if his voice didn’t waiver. She never knew what to do if someone cried.
“You could have told me about Barnes. What makes Sam so special you explained to him and not me? And for that matter, what makes Barnes so special you trust the Winter Soldier over me?” That was what was really bugging her. After everything he’d done, she welcomed the man back in with open arms.
“First of all, he’s not the Winter Soldier, not anymore. That was a title they gave him after they stole Bucky Barnes from him. It was never who he is. And as you can see, their bullshit has broken down, and he has himself back. So you can call him by his name and treat him like the man he is or you can walk out of this safe house and I won’t see you beyond Avengers duties.” He readjusted in his bed slightly and she could see him wince against his ribs. Having a full grown man on his chest probably didn’t help. “Secondly, they see me, not the shield. Bucky loved me when I spent more time in hospitals than the classroom and he loved me exactly the same after Azzano. How the world saw me never mattered to him. And Sam may rib me about the whole Captain America thing, but he wants to spend time getting to know Steve Rogers. He talked to me about what it was like adjusting from the war, not how Captain America liked the future. He asked how I felt, not what the world would think. The team is great, but S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers see me as Captain Rogers, super soldier, not Steve Rogers the man.”
“Barnes is still dangerous! I don’t care who he was before the war, he was their operative and now you’re welcoming him back with open arms!” She hated that she was yelling. The Black Widow doesn't lose emotional control like this, but Steve needed to understand that even if Barnes hadn’t been willing, HYDRA made him a threat, yet he was acting as if the man was a lost kitten you bring home out of the rain.
“You were dangerous when Clint brought you in. Now you’re pissed I don’t trust you. So it’s only okay when it’s you?”
“I shot Clint!” Steve Rogers was probably the most stubborn person she knew and, God, was it infuriating. It was like he was being intentionally dense.
“Okay, but aren’t you and Barton fucking now? Also, is it really a good idea to be screaming in a room with two people healing, one of which is a POW who’s only been free for 24 hours?” Sam was just staring at her, arms crossed and eyebrow raised.
You know what? If they’re going to be idiots, fine.
“I’m going for a walk,” Nat called as she walked out of the safe house.