Chapter 10
The cool evening air greeted Bucky and Sam as they walked through the bustling streets of New York City. The city was alive with its usual energy—the hum of traffic, distant chatter, and the occasional siren blending into a familiar soundtrack. Despite the lively surroundings, there was a noticeable tension in Bucky’s shoulders, a heaviness that Sam couldn’t ignore.
“What’s going on in that cyborg brain of yours?” Sam asked, his tone light, but the concern in his voice unmistakable.
Bucky hesitated, his mind swirling with thoughts he wasn’t quite ready to voice. He managed a small smirk, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just… still processing everything, I guess. It’s a lot to take in.”
Sam nodded, understanding the weight behind those words. He kept his gaze on Bucky, waiting for him to say more, but when the silence stretched on, Sam decided to speak up. “I hear you. But remember, you’re not going through this alone. We’re a team, right? We’ll figure this out together.”
Bucky’s steps slowed as he turned to meet Sam’s gaze. There was a vulnerability in his blue eyes, one that he rarely let show. “I appreciate that, Sam. I do. But this isn’t just some mission we can plan out. This is… it’s my life. And I don’t know how to fight this.”
Sam’s heart ached at the raw honesty in Bucky’s voice. He could see the fear and uncertainty that Bucky was trying so hard to mask. “And that’s exactly why I’m sticking around,” Sam said with quiet determination. “I’ve been thinking… maybe I should stay in New York for a while… be your roommate. I can help you with whatever you need—appointments, treatments, just being there.”
Bucky stopped in his tracks, surprise flickering across his face. He turned to fully face Sam, the weight of the offer sinking in. “Move in? Sam, you don’t have to do that. You’ve got your own life, responsibilities… and this… it’s a lot. You shouldn’t have to put everything on hold for me.”
Sam continued walking, his stride confident as if the decision had already been made in his mind. “Yeah, I’ve got responsibilities, and one of them is making sure you’re okay,” Sam called back, his voice steady, leaving no room for debate. “We’re family, Buck. We look out for each other. That’s how this works.”
Bucky stood there for a moment, watching Sam walk ahead. A mixture of emotions churned within him—gratitude, disbelief, and something he hadn’t felt in a long time: hope. With a quiet chuckle, he quickened his pace to catch up. “Maybe we should just look for a new place then. My lease is almost up, and there’s no way we could both live in my tiny apartment without someone getting stabbed.”
Sam’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, a grin spreading across his face as he slowed his pace to match Bucky’s. “Seriously?”
“Yeah,” Bucky confirmed, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “That is if you’re sure you can handle living with me. My last roommate was Steve over 80 years ago, and he used to complain all the time about how messy I was. I’m not exactly an easy guy to live with.”
Sam laughed, the sound rich and warm. “Messy, huh? Well, I can handle a bit of mess. Besides, I’m pretty sure I’ve dealt with worse. You should see my sister’s kids—those little monsters can turn a clean house into a war zone in five minutes flat.”
Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle at the mental image. The idea of Sam trying to wrangle a bunch of energetic kids was oddly comforting, a reminder that life was still happening, that normalcy was still possible, even in the midst of everything.
“Alright then,” Bucky said, the smile on his face growing more genuine. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you. I might be a super-soldier, but that doesn’t mean I’m super at doing dishes.”
Sam rolled his eyes playfully. “Noted. But we’ll make it work. We’ll find a place that’s big enough for the both of us, with enough space so we’re not tripping over each other. And who knows, maybe I can teach you a thing or two about keeping a place clean.”
“Good luck with that,” Bucky quipped, feeling a little of the tension in his chest ease as they continued walking.
As they moved through the city, the conversation shifted to lighter topics—possible neighborhoods to look for apartments, the kind of furniture they might need, and even the logistics of moving Bucky’s sparse belongings. But underlying it all was the unspoken understanding that this was more than just a practical arrangement. It was a lifeline, a way for Bucky to stay connected, to not lose himself in the isolation that had plagued him for so long.
Despite this, a nagging doubt lingered at the edges of Bucky’s mind. He kept his hands tucked in his pockets, the familiar feel of the cool metal of his left hand grounding him in the present moment. But despite the growing ease between them, he couldn’t shake his worries.
“Sam,” Bucky began hesitantly, his voice barely rising above the ambient noise of the city, “you know this isn’t going to be easy, right? Living with me... it’s not just the messiness or the nightmares. It’s everything—the baggage, the bad days when I can barely get out of bed, the moments when I’m not… when I’m not okay. And now, with the seizures and the sickness that keep creeping up on me, it’s just getting worse. It probably will keep getting worse.”
Sam slowed his pace, his expression softening as he looked at Bucky. “I know, Buck. I’ve seen some of those bad days, remember? And I’m still here, aren’t I?”
Bucky nodded, his throat tightening. He didn’t need to remind Sam of the nights he’d been woken by Bucky’s screams, the mornings when Bucky couldn’t bear to leave his apartment, let alone face the world outside. And now, there was the added weight of his body betraying him in new ways—the seizures that struck without warning, the sickness that left him drained and weak. Sam had seen it all—the broken pieces that Bucky struggled to keep together—and he’d never once turned away.
“I just… I don’t want to be a burden,” Bucky admitted, his voice dropping to a near whisper, the weight of those words heavier than he could fully express. It was a fear that haunted him, the fear of driving away the few people who still cared, the fear of being too much for anyone to handle.
Sam stopped walking altogether, turning to face Bucky fully. He placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, firm yet gentle, grounding him in a way that words alone couldn’t. “You’re not a burden, Bucky. You’re my friend, and that means something. It means I’m here for the bad days, the good days, and everything in between. You’ve carried enough weight on your own for too long. Let someone else share it with you for once.”
Bucky looked at Sam, the sincerity in his friend’s eyes almost overwhelming. He wasn’t used to this, to someone offering to stand by him, not out of duty or obligation, but because they wanted to. It was a foreign feeling, but one he desperately wanted to believe in.
“Okay,” Bucky said finally, his voice thick with emotion. “Okay, Sam. But you’ve got to promise me something.”
“Anything,” Sam replied without hesitation.
“If this ever gets to be too much—if you ever feel like you’re in over your head—you’ve got to tell me. I don’t want you to feel trapped in this, in any of it.”
Sam’s lips quirked into a small, understanding smile. “You’ve got yourself a deal. But I’m pretty stubborn, Buck. I don’t back down easily, and I’m not about to start now.”
A faint smile tugged at the corners of Bucky’s mouth, a rare sight that hadn’t been there just moments before. “Yeah, I’ve noticed,” he said, his tone lighter than it had been in a long time. The knot of tension in his chest loosened just a little, replaced by something warm, something close to trust.
The two continued walking, their steps now in sync, as they discussed the future with a sense of cautious optimism. The idea of living together, of facing whatever came next side by side, felt like a step in the right direction—a small victory in a world that often felt like it was full of losses.
As they neared the corner of the street, Bucky spoke again, his voice thoughtful. “You know, I’ve spent so long running from my past, trying to make up for the things I did. But maybe it’s time to start looking forward. Maybe it’s time to start building something new.”
Sam glanced at Bucky, his heart swelling with pride for his friend. “I think that’s a great idea. And whatever that new future looks like, you won’t have to build it alone. We’ll do it together.”
Bucky nodded, feeling the truth of Sam’s words settle deep within him. The path ahead wasn’t clear, and there were still battles to fight—both within and outside of himself—but for the first time in a long while, Bucky felt like he didn’t have to face them alone.
“Together,” he echoed, the word feeling right, feeling true.