No More Second Chances

“Sam!” 

“No!” 

“Steve for the love of- Sam! It’s Nat-”

“I know it's you Nat! I’m still not opening the door!” 

“Sam please! We’re worried about you. You’ve dropped off the map, your sister even called us multiple times, threatening to come up and find you herself.” 

He swallowed in fear. When she got going, Sara was more formidable than a tank. Sam could barely hold his front door from splintering to pieces from Steve and Natasha's constant thudding. The hinges would literally disintegrate if it were his sister at the door. He laughed anxiously, exaggerating his tone. 

“Hahah, Nat I'm fiiiine girl. There's nothing to worry about here, I’m chilling! Just taking a long break, okay? Go home, please?”

Silence. 

“Nat? Steve?” 

No response. He checked the door gap, and their shadows were gone. “Fuck-” 

“Fine huh.” 

He braced himself for their criticisms of his disastrous apartment as they entered through his fire escape window. No lights were on beside his laptop. He couldn't get his old house back, but he landed a very nice apartment in the middle of the city for cheap. Yet every window panel had newspaper glued to block the outside world. Nat wandered around the living room, stepping on his dirty clothes strewn everywhere, and Steves shoe crunched on some glass from a vase he broke in a manic episode he couldn't remember. They couldn't even see a surface without a takeout box or dirty napkins. 

Instead of disgust and cringe, when they were done inspecting the apartment, the computer light danced off the concern and fear  for him on their face. 

Their empathy crippled him for the next few hours, as they held him on the dusty floor, patting his back and rubbing his hair. At certain points, their comfort made him cry harder, although he wouldn’t be able to explain why. Eventually, Steve got up and began picking up wrappers and clothes while Nat held Sam tighter, like the giant baby he felt. Attempting to speak just earned him a knowing smile from Nat.

“Just rest okay?” 

He nodded, watching her excuse herself to  bring a comforter from his bedroom, wrapping him up only to leave his nose and eyes exposed. He saw them clean his living room and kitchen, with the rustling of trash and wipes as music. 

To their credit, Nat and Steve finished pretty fast, gathering the garbage bags close to the door. With a sigh,  they joined him again leaning against his front door, facing the product of their work. 

Muffled from the blanket and cracking from the tears, Sam commented “I can see my house again.” 

Steve chuckled. “Yeah buddy. I’m impressed with how you managed to use every inch of that counter.” 

Nat patted the top of his head over the thick padding. “Anyone want Chinese?” 

A full stomach later, Sam felt a tiny, tiny bit betrayed. As it turns out, the real reason they came was to take him to Wakanda. Bucky had been awake for two weeks now, asking petulantly for Sam. 

He poked at scraps of wantons, the taste souring quickly. “I don’t-” 

“We tried to tell him to give you time, but the past few days he's been threatening Steve and I, saying he’ll make the trip here. We…we really can’t risk it Sam. But if you tell us you don’t want to see him, we can try it. I’m…not sure how he’ll take it though.” 

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I do. I…I miss him, even though I barely know him.” 

Steve tapped his chopsticks contemplatively. “What's going on Sam? You’ve been off for months now. If you miss him that much, wouldn’t seeing him help ease whatever you're feeling?” 

Sam paused before setting down his utensils. 

There was no way he's finishing his meal. 

“Maybe it would, or maybe it’d make it worse. I can’t say because I don’t know what's happening to me. I keep hearing him, and seeing him, and feeling this strange, unnerving feeling. Maybe I do miss him that much, but I don’t… I can’t really explain it.” He looked up at them. Meeting their stoic gazes, whispering, “I’m scared. I’ve been paranoid, sleepless, something is wrong with me. My brain…I can’t…I feel like I can’t trust my body or my brain. Something is wrong.” 

That was enough for the two Avengers to settle on going to Wakanda, if not to see Barnes, to see Shuri. Sam was grateful they didn’t try to comment on his vague explanation, nor did they try to brush off his strife. His friends trusted his truth, and they wanted to fix him as much as he wanted to fix himself. 

A feeling of safety and warmth permeated the negativity. For the first time in a long time. Who knew being honest could be so freeing? Unfortunately, it didn’t cure Sam’s terrors about Bucky or them, but it made it easier to handle having Nat and Steve bring him back when he’d start shaking, panicking or staring into the void. These instances happened more than he'd care to admit while they organized their departure over the next two days. Sam was only thankful the both of them decided to hunker down at his place until the plans were finalized.

However, the coercion didn't stop at Wakanda though. While he was semi-grateful for the worry, Steve plopped Sam down on his own couch only four hours before their flight to call Sara. He couldn’t say no to those familiar, tormented, puppy dog eyes.

“So. My big brothers finally snapped.” 

She scolded him some more, but despite the jabs, she didn’t pressure him for an explanation. He gave her the same vague self diagnosis he told Nat and Steve, explaining Shuri was going to scan him for anything out of the ordinary. He cried for at least thirty minutes on that call, blubbering about missing her, the kids, his brother in law, and wishing nothing more to be normal again. 

“Sam, you were never normal. But if anyone can figure it out, it's you.” 

With that, they said, " I love you” and “See you later”. Something about her hanging up made his chest ache. They were fine, he was fine. So why did it feel like a goodbye? Why did it feel final? 

He cried some more, conflicting feelings of release and dread burning inside him. 

At long last, they arrived in Wakanda. Sam couldn’t recall the last time he set foot in the city, feeling worse for wear than he ever had. Shuri appeared like she wanted to call him out on his scraggly beard and dark eye bags, but thought better of it. The princess gently guided the trio into her lab. All the medical equipment for Bucky was gone, not a trace in sight. 

“Sergeant Barnes is training with Ayo right now, deep in the forest. He won’t be in the castle for a while.” 

It felt wrong to avoid Bucky, and have everyone distance them, as if they had a falling out. Wanting to correct this misunderstanding, Sam couldn't even open his mouth, his lips sticking from dehydration. He simply nodded. 

“I’m going to ask you some basic questions while I do a full body, then a brain scan, is that okay?”

He nodded again. 

After her questions, and evaluating her scans, she determined - as the physiological diagnosis, she emphasized quite heavily - there was nothing wrong with him. 

Sam laughed. How could he not? He felt a little bad at Princess Shuri’s clear panic at his outburst, so he calmed himself down to continue listening. 

“I uhm, as I said before, this is just an initial, physiological analysis. Your body and physical brain appear fine. The only notable changes are in your synapses. It seems like they’re connecting at new junctions, which typically only happens after healing from cranial trauma or making new permanent memories, or mastering something new.”

She took a breath, holding her pen in both hands as if a crutch. “I want to keep you here to monitor you. From a professional and a personal perspective, I don’t think this is limited to your relationship with Sergeant Barnes. From what you’ve said about these feelings affecting your other relationships as well, I’d like to continue to evaluate your psychological health while you're here. With a certified psychologist of course.” 

“So daily therapy sessions?” 

Her scrunched expression cracked just a little. “Something like that. Please, if you have those…episodes again, don’t hesitate to call me.” She poked her pen against his forehead lightly. He lowered her hand and held it, thanking her sincerely. He thanked her for dealing with his strange questions, for him disappearing, for taking care of Bucky, and for her willingness to help him. 

She cleared her throat, removing her hand slowly, and patting his shoulder awkwardly. “All in a day's work Sam.”  He smiled at that. 

The next few days were expected to continue in the same pattern. Meet in the lab, do some tests, see nothing wrong and lay awake wondering if seeing Bucky would trigger him beyond saving or cure this ailment. He didn’t have long to wonder, as not even 24 hours after landing, a knock at his room interrupted his failed attempt at reading. 

Sam swallowed thickly, pretty sure Shuri probably told Barnes to stay away from him for a few days at least. 

Another two raps at the door made him drop his book on the comforter.

“Sam?” 

Lightning struck his nerves, and his heart jumped into his throat. “Oh Jesus.” Sam croaked as he  rushed to the door, mind running a million miles an hour with all thoughts and none at the same time. 

His hands moved on their own, as if activated by the lightning. The subtle click of the door handle echoed louder than the buzzing in his mind as the gap widened more and more and more-

Damn, this is what I’ve missed? 

Long hair that was slightly disheveled and damp, his black long sleeve shirt and linen pants looked freshly pressed as if he just showered and forgot to dry with a towel. His left sleeve dangled listlessly, still missing his arm. His scruff seemed to be filling in nicely, framing his strong jawline perfectly.  Somehow, Bucky looked more handsome and alluring than the last time Sam saw him. And even better this time, there was recognition in his baby blues. 

“Sam..” Bucky’s gasp was barely audible as his eyes examined Sam in turn. “I-”

He couldn’t help but pull Bucky in swiftly by the shoulders. Maybe he really was one for the looney bin, because on Titi's grave he swore D’Angelo bellowed romance from the corner of the room while the chorus sang through his soul. 

This was it. This is what he needed. 

Bucky's arm hesitated, coming up to reciprocate and holding Sam tighter. They stood there, breathing each other in, simply feeling. When Bucky started petting Sam's nape, he woke up without even realizing he was dozing in the man's embrace. 

Sam cleared his throat, trying and stumbling to a step back before Bucky caught him, remaining in his personal space and crossing the door frame into the room. Bucky smiled nervously at the silent invitation, and Sam reached behind to close the door behind him. 

“Hey.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at that. “Hey? That's what you open with?” 

Bucky pouted, adorably so. “It’s been a while, can ya blame me? Work with me here sweetheart.”

Sam laughed, mostly harder than necessary from how ridiculously mushy he felt. He pulled Bucky to sit next to him on the bed. “Alright, alright. I missed you.”

Bucky’s cheeks bloomed, the red completely contrasting his pale complexion. He fiddled with his shirt. "I- I missed you too Sam." Bucky glanced at him briefly, with a small smile. "I was told not to see you for a few days. Are you okay?" 

Sam sucked in a breath, not really wanting to explain the situation to the cause of it. 

"I'm okay, just Shuri checking on my insomnia. It's a little bad right now, probably from stress but I'll be okay. Promise." 

It clearly didn't please Bucky that Sam was going through something. He shifted one knee onto the bed to fully face Sam. 

And then he did it again. The same thing he did at the bunker before the DC mission.

Lifting up his right hand, Bucky airily brushed his fingers against the side of Sam's face, cupping his cheek. Sam closed his eyes at some point, rubbing against the palm, his own hands somehow finding Bucky's chest and balling up the fabric. 

Did Bucky move closer? He felt his presence, his knee knocked against Sam's thigh, his hand still rubbed soft circles on his cheek. No Bucky was definitely closer, leaning even. He wanted to see but couldn't bring himself to open his eyes as if it’d break the spell, and he really couldn't hear anything over his heartbeat. 

"Sam, I-" 

"Sam there's a really cool- Oh! Sorry!"

Steve squeaked as he slammed the door shut again, both Sam and Bucky completely frozen at their interruption. Sam’s eyes shot open his eyes at the rattle of the door frame, and he was right. Bucky was much closer, his face not even an inch from his own. 

He never wanted to stuff his friend into a garbage bin more than at this moment. Sam sputtered in disbelief, burying his face into the crook of Bucky’s neck. "I can't believe this, he didn't even knock." 

Bucky stroked his back, huffing in joined frustration. "Steve's always done some shit like this. Always barging in at the best moments. I always said he had a personal vendetta against me." 

Sam leaned back, holding onto Bucky’s shoulders. "Well, the night isn't  ruined just yet." He might have laid that one on too thick, as Bucky clearly choked up, fixing his grip on Sam's hand just as quickly as he stood up, stiff as a board. 

Sam pondered for a moment why he was suddenly acting shy, when it hit him. 

"Oh I swear I didn't mean-"

"No I know-"

"I mean not to say I don't-"

"Yeah no of course me too I just-" 

"Wait so you-" 

"Let's just-go out! You haven't seen the city right?" 

Bucky couldn't keep his composure, and it made Sam swoon. Despite their flustered exchange, Sam stood in Bucky's space, giving him a brief cheek kiss. "Sure, we can do that." 

“Did you just-”

Externally, seeing Bucky's owlish eyes were also hilarious, but on the inside he was screaming in embarrassment. He was loving this dichotomous feeling more and more every second. 

“Weren’t we going out?” Sam cocked his head to the side innocently. 

Bucky could only nod, and dazedly gestured to him to follow. Through their floor to the elevators, there wasn’t anyone around. It was close to 11:30pm at that point, around the time the castle became barren. However, once they stepped outside onto the street, the market was just as lively as it is midday. 

“Woah..”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could make out Bucky looking at him. When he tried to meet his eyes, he looked away. 

“Why’d you look away?”

Bucky startled, gaping at him. “What!?” 

Sam shrugged coyly and held steadfast in his gaze despite every instinct to look away. It worked, flustering Bucky again, saying something incomprehensible as he grabbed Sam's sleeve lightly and led him forward into the market. Sam was immediately taken by the variety, witnessing alien looking tropical fruits be stirred or shaken into a drink, topped on a dish or eaten straight from the source with a straw or fork. Impeccably crafted jewelry laid meticulously to catch shoppers attention, all gorgeous and glimmering in the street lights, ready to be bartered.

"You've been living like a king Barnes…" 

He shrugged in response with a Cheshire like grin. "You haven't seen the best parts yet." 

Bucky took charge, not sexy Sam stop it- guiding them through the crowded twists and turns of the markets. He suddenly passed in front of one, adorned with Xosha lettering and beads. Bucky spoke their language flawlessly, going so far as to make the vendor laugh and clutch his belly. He handed Bucky a white looking ball, wrapped around the bottom and sides with paper and tin foil. Bucky appeared taken aback, and seemed to try to argue with the older man before he shook his head, smiling and waving them off.

As they walked off, Sam couldn't refrain from his curiosity.  "What was that all about?"

Bucky looked up from the white ball in his hand. "He gave us a free fufu, all because I told him one joke. It's huge too, big enough to share." 

"What's fufu?" 

"What?! You don't know what fufu is?"

While he lectured Sam on the universal African dishes and staple Wakandan cuisine, they wandered around for a while in the streets of the capital, standing shoulder to shoulder as they explored the myriad of vendors and food choices.  From sampling desserts to alcohol and juices, to purchasing a matching set of beautifully embroidered fans for Sara and her husband, along with some trinkets for the boys, Sam couldn’t stop grinning. The mushy feeling kept expanding with every word exchanged between the two. It didn’t help that Bucky’s hand never left Sam's body, either holding his hand, his waist or his cheek. Sam was on cloud 900 at this point, a dizzy, almost drunk feeling seeped into his veins, sometimes making him trip over nothing. And Bucky was there to catch him every time. 

After another hour, they reached the end of the market. The crowd was thinning anyway, and the vendors began closing. Bucky looked around, and nodded to himself, before tapping Sam's neck, who was presently very content leaning against his shoulder. 

“I know a spot. Are you still down to stay out?” 

Sam stood to face Bucky, nodding as the other smiled at his ease. 

Gasping at the beauty before him, Sam leaned forward and felt amazement bubble into a laugh. About 20 minutes of walking uphill, and a very long and dark alley brought them to a rooftop balcony that was probably private property, but viewed the very market they left and the capital. They could even see the rest of the city behind, quiet, but still sparkling in the night. 

“Bucky this…” His eyes never left Sam’s, not even bothering to take in the incredible view before them. 

“I know, beautiful right?”

Sam inhaled sharply, stepping forward at the will of the magnetic tension. 

“Can I kiss you?” Sam couldn’t even hear his own question, too focused on how plump and soft Bucky’s lips looked. 

Bucky didn’t reply, simply smiling, his hand cupping Sam's cheek while closing the gap achingly slow. 

Eventually, after lightyears that couldn’t have happened faster, Sam finally felt Bucky's lips on his. 

He was right, they are soft, and plush despite being small. They broke for a moment, and then returned.

At this point, it wasn’t lightning that struck, but instead the fresh breeze after a storm that gently swept over his body. Elevated, buzzing with leftover electricity and tender. Bucky's lips led, Sam's moving in tandem ease. It felt as natural as breathing, as easy as smiling, as refreshing as sunlight. At some point, Bucky’s hand moved to Sam’s waist, which further ceased all remaining brain activity for him. 

Eventually, Bucky broke the kiss, while Sam couldn’t help but sigh longingly with his hands still gripping the others shirt. 

“Mm..why’d you stop?” He couldn’t even open his eyes if he wanted to, heavy from the heaven he just experienced.

“Sam…you’re running a little warm, are you okay?”

He snapped out of his reverie a little, but remained leaning against Bucky. “Huh?” 

Bucky’s hand moved from his waist to his forehead, a furrowed brow of worry that while made him handsome, didn’t strike Sam as encouraging the mood. 

“You’re…really hot.” Sam snickered which earned him a pointed look. “I mean it Sam. Can you stand on your own?” 

He rolled his eyes, “Of course I can, you know if you wanted to stop kissing me you could’ve-” 

As his knees buckled when the last of his fingers grazed Bucky’s shirt, and he could see a terrified Bucky launch forward to save him, all Sam could think was-

I should’ve kissed him sooner.