Chapter Text
Bucky stumbled as black spots danced into his vision.
"Woah, Buck," Sam started, catching Bucky by his arm.
Once Bucky was stable again, Sam leveled him with a look.
"You okay dude?" Sam asked, "And don't lie to me man," he said, pointing at Bucky with a stern look.
Him and Sam had been sparring, just like they did every other day. But for some reason he felt faint today, not as strong as he usually was.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Bucky said, waving Sam off. "Just got a little lightheaded," he finished, knowing he had to give the other man some form of explanation.
Unfortunately, this didn't seem to convince Sam, but actually made him pause, considering.
"Oh yeah?" Sam replied with forced casualty. "When's the last time you ate then?" he asked, slightly less subtle.
Now it was Bucky's turn to pause. He...didn't remember. His eyebrows furrowed together, and he felt Sam take another step closer to him.
"Um...when did the spider kid make that pasta?" he asked Sam.
He could practically feel the concern coming off of Sam in waves.
"Buck, Peter made spaghetti on Tuesday night. Three days ago," Sam replied. "You really haven't eaten since then?" Sam pressed.
Bucky shifted uncomfortably.
"I guess not," he replied, looking at the floor.
-------------------------------------------------
Sam was going to have a heart attack. Bucky managed to find new ways to freak him out every day. Currently, he was admitting to Sam he hadn't eaten since Tuesday night. Over 72 hours ago. Why wasn't anyone monitoring this?
Not to mention, they had only hesitantly tried Peter's pasta, afraid he might be a bad cook. Him and Buck had grabbed small portions, prepared to dump it if it was inedible. Upon finding out the kid was actually capable, and (though Sam would never tell him) good at making the team dinner, Sam had went back for a second, much larger, portion. But racking his memory, he couldn't remember Bucky doing the same. Sam wanted to kick himself. How long had this been going on?
Suddenly, something else occured to Sam.
"Buck?" he asked, not sure if he was ready to hear the answer to his next question.
"Yeah?" Bucky responded, though he didn't seem to really be present.
"Did you eat anything else on Tuesday?" Sam asked, "Or was it just the kid's spaghetti?"
Bucky looked up, eyes guilty, and Sam knew his answer.
"Right," Sam nodded. "Okay well now we have two choices," he continued.
"You can come grab dinner with me, or we can talk about why you haven't been eating right here," Sam finished, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I will talk to you about it. And i'll eat. It's your choice," Bucky responded.
While he was glad Bucky was going along with it, he didn't feel great about the way he did it. Bucky hadn't had a choice for seventy years, and it seems he still wasn't comfortable making them for himself.
"Okay," Sam responded simply. "We can talk while I cook," he stated.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sam had decided to grill them some chicken. It was a simple food, a safe one. He needed to see the other man get some nutrients, and chicken would do the job. Once the chicken began sizzling, Bucky finally opened his mouth to speak.
"When they made me the Winter Soldier, they took away my hunger receptors," Bucky started, voice void of any emotion.
"This way, they could send me on long missions, usually a couple weeks, without having to worry about supplying me with food, or the hunger getting in the way of my performance," he continued, casually.
"So, I guess now that I'm back I just forget to eat. I don't feel hungry. I'm used to going weeks without food or water. It's not a big deal," he finished.
"Buck, the differerence is that you don't have to do that anymore. You can feed your body. Just because it's something you're used to doesen't make it something you deserve," Sam responded, voice soft.
"What it really means is that i'll never get rid of it. Never all of it. I'll always be the soldier. It's apart of me now, and maybe that's just my sentence," Bucky responded, anguish evident in his tone.
"It doesen't," Sam stated firmly. "Not only because I say so," he paused, and Bucky smiled, "But because this is something you can fix. It might just take a little longer than you want it too," Sam finished.
"Startinggg, right now" Sam said, plating the chicken. "Let's eat man."
Bucky nodded, immediately chowing into Sam's food.
"Hey, this is actually pretty good," Bucky said, teasing.
"What, like it wasn't gonna be?" Sam responded, offended. "Like you can even cook," Sam shot back.
"I can, actually" Bucky responded. "And I will. Tomorrow morning. Breakfast," Bucky stated.
Sam smiled. Bucky didn't know the half of it. Sam was installing mandatory team meals three times a day from now on.
"Deal," he responded.