Bucky stood at the counter in his half-empty apartment, staring down at the two objects placed in front of him. He didn't know how long he’d been standing there. It was dark in the room, the only light source the bluish glow from the muted tv screen behind him. It was enough to see the two black objects resting between his hands on the countertop. They looked heavy.
After an indeterminate amount of time, he picked up the object on the left. Felt the weight of it in his hand. Not that heavy then, really. He considered it for a moment, then with a jerk dropped it back to the counter. Picked up the other, raised it to his head.
——————
Down in Delacroix, Sam was getting a much deserved night's sleep. It was hot, and it had taken him a while to drift off, kicking the covers around to find pockets of cool air. It had been a couple of days since the big cookout, a combined celebration of both the new and improved Paul & Darlene, and the new and improving Captain America. Between all the neighbours dropping by, calls from too many government agencies and business with the family business, Sam was wiped out.
When his phone buzzed with an incoming call, just a couple of hours after finally getting to sleep, he seriously considered not answering. The time glowed 3:12am from the lit screen, burning his tired eyes a little. “Freaky MaGoo” flashed up on the caller ID. “Goddamn cyborgs never knowing when to shut down…” he grumbled to himself before picking up on the fourth ring.
“Cyborg IT support, Sam Wilson speaking”. The silence on the other end made him double check he’d actually hit the answer button instead of the hang-up button – but yup, call was rolling. “Bucky?”. Though it seemed too quiet on the other end to be the case, he carried on anyway “Swear to god man if you woke me up for a butt-dial I’m gonna-”. Finally movement on the other end of the line as a voice cuts across him “Shit sorry Sam, were you asleep?”. Sounding genuinely apologetic. Suspicious in itself. “Uh at 3am man, yeah, believe it or not. Not all of us have rechargeable battery packs we can plug in whenever we want.”. “Sorry I, uh, guess I didn’t realise what time it was…” he trailed off, sounding distracted enough for the excuse to be actually believable. After another silence, “Sooo…”. “Fuck sorry Sam, I should let you go back to sleep” Bucky responded, still sounding distracted. Sam pictured a scene in his head, Bucky in his New York apartment, attention completely pulled from the conversation he’d instigated by whatever he happened to be looking at. A cat on the fire escape probably.
While Sam agreed, yes Bucky you should let me sleep you goddamn maniac, he was waking up now, and knew the heat would keep him from drifting off again easily. Might as well see what this was about. “Aw hell naw, you’ve woken me up now dude, not letting you off that easy. So what’s up?”.
Sam leaned back into a more comfortable position on the bed, half his body still draped in the bedclothes, the other half exposed to the warm night air. He’d half worried there was going to be some Winter Soldier emergency that would need Captain America, but by the sounds of things this was just a regular old Bucky and Sam chat. Well, not that they were that regular. And the concept was pretty new. But yeah, he could get comfortable he wasn’t going to be rushing out the door in emergency mode any time soon.
Sam could almost feel the frown forming itself on Bucky’s face as the other man attempted to string his sentence together “I uh...sorry yeah I uh just..”. Hmm maybe there’s two cats on the fire escape, Sam thought to himself as he waited. Maybe two cats making love. Sam nearly laughed to himself, picturing Bucky watching those cats, a look of total consternation on his face. It just fit somehow. He tried to shake the picture out of his head as Bucky struggled on “You know what, I just wanted to say uh, thanks, you know, for having me down with your family and everything, inviting me to the cookout. It was really, uh, great.” Bucky seemed to have found a tack to follow now, though on the other end of the phone Sam was just as confused as before. “Well sure Buck, you know we’re happy to have you anytime. Especially when there’s heavy things need lifting. But uh, that the only reason for the 3am call?”. “Ha uh, yeah sorry about that again man. City that never sleeps and all that” Sam snorted as he pictured Bucky’s face wince spouting that line. “Shit, you from New York? You have literally never mentioned that before.”
Sam looked around his room, his brain waking up as the conversation wound down (not that it had ever really wound up in the first place). His eyes skimmed over the photos framed on his dresser. He had a couple of family photos - the one of him, Sarah and his parents posing on the boat way back when, and the version of it they repeated with Sarah and the kids after he came back from the blip. Then there was the one of him and the Falcon team, Riley’s arm draped over his shoulders; a group shot with the Avengers after their first real mission as a new team, and one of just him, Steve and Tasha, from when they were teaching Steve the art of the selfie. A brief and familiar sense of loss washed over him before his eyes moved on, picking up the empty glass on his bedside locker next to his laptop. Yup, he was up now, and he was thirsty. No need getting melancholy this time of the morning.
It was only when Bucky started talking again that he realised he’d been listening to another distracted silence as his own thoughts had wandered. Bucky’s voice seemed suddenly small and far away and the sound dragged Sam’s eyes back over to the photos on his dresser. “Just...thanks for everything, Sam. I’ll let you go.”.
Sam didn’t know where it came from, but all of a sudden he had a feeling in his throat that had nothing to do with his thirst, and a voice in the back of his head was telling him he really didn’t want to hang up the phone right now.
“Oh hey uh, hang on a sec man” Sam scrambled upright as his mouth scrambled for words, his brain feeling like scrambled eggs. “I’m glad you called actually, there was something I wanted to run by you if you’re not in the middle of anything?”. Sam untangled himself from his sheets and stood, grabbing his laptop from the bedside table and turning it on. He thought he heard movement on the other end of the line over his own shuffling, a slight rustling as Bucky moved position, a slight clunk like a heavy object put down on a hard surface. He thought he heard a muffled “Not the middle” too, though he couldn’t be sure as Bucky’s voice then came clearly on the line “Uh yeah sure, Sam. Shoot.”. “Great I’m just gonna move downstairs so I don’t wake Sarah and the kids, give me two minutes.” “Shit sorry, my fault man.” “Naw it’s cool” Sam whispered back as he moved down the stairs.
For the next twenty minutes they talked shop. Sam doing most of the talking really, and it felt good to vent. Sam really had wanted to get a second opinion on what all the government types had been trying to sell him on the last few days since his public appearance as Captain America, and there were few people more cynical than Bucky Barnes when it came to trusting governments (despite Sharon’s wild theories of “Mr. America” and his rampant patriotism). The guy straight up knew too much, had seen too much to be taken in by the political bullshit. Sam told him as much as they talked, which in hindsight may have been a mistake.
“You know I think about it sometimes. What I did…and sometimes...they weren’t all good people you know? Some of them...and I don’t feel good about it, but maybe I just...don’t feel that guilty about it either. Some of them.”
There was a pause while Sam recalibrated to the new turn in the conversation, took in what Bucky had said. “Hey Buck, I get it man. I mean a lot of us have taken lives, in the army, as heroes, and we learn to justify that. And not to take it lightly, but sometimes it just is the right choice. Maybe the only choice. I ain’t saying it’s the same but, in terms of feeling guilt over shit that was in no way ever your fault man? I wouldn’t be too worried about not feeling bad for some scumbag dictator you put out of everyone’s misery.”
“Huh” the half surprised response came down the line. “You know you’re the only person I’ve said that to. Didn’t feel like something I could.” “What, not Raynor?” Sam asked. Bucky just snorted in response. Raynor. Yeah, that’s a laugh, thought Sam. “Speaking of Raynor, you uh, still having nightmares?”.
Sam half thought that maybe that’s what spurred the 3am call from his robot friend. God knows he’s not a stranger to waking in the middle of the night from some familiar hell and grasping for anything to pull him back onto safe ground. Now Bucky seemed to be a bit more chatty, maybe he’d get to the bottom of why they were on the phone now at...he glanced at the time on his laptop, nearly four in the morning.
“No, actually. Not a single one since I finished my list. Like someone just turned the faucet off.” Sam was surprised, but happy for Bucky at this improvement. “Hey, that’s great man”. The “Hn” he got in reply was decidedly noncommittal on that one. Shit, he was closing down again, wasn’t he. “You still seeing Raynor?” he tried. After a silence “Buck?”. “Huh sorry?”. Bucky was clearly distracted again, but Sam was less inclined to picture him looking at cats fucking on a fire escape this time round. “Where are you right now man?”. “Just in the apartment”. The apartment. He always called it that, Sam had been noticing. Always the apartment, never home. “Oh yeah, I thought I could hear an echo alright.” “Yeah, yeah” “I think I just HEARD your eyes roll man. I mean I’d change the record, but I’m pretty sure you don’t have any so…”. "Well maybe I like the quiet".
“I was uh, thinking about coming up to New York soon actually. Sort some GRC stuff, shake a few hands. We could take a trip to Ikea, get you a nice rug, maybe a lamp or, I dunno a second chair.” Sam thought he faintly heard a sigh on the other end of the line, then in a tired voice “I don’t need all that Sam.” “Sure Buck, but hey, could be fun? Or we could do something else. Would be nice to have a distraction from all the GRC hassle. Something to look forward to.” Sam felt a strain on his words on that last line, not fully knowing where it came from, but feeling it’s importance.
“I don’t know Sam”. Sam started to feel something like panic brewing in the pit of his stomach, even as he told himself he was being stupid. Surly James Barnes didn’t want to come on a shopping trip with him? Not exactly a code green Sam. Except he hadn’t been surly at all the last time he’d seen him. They’d been laughing, and touching, and Bucky had been more at ease than he’d ever seen him, other than with Steve. Plus he’d said himself his nightmares had stopped. So why the mysterious call in the middle of the night, and why had Bucky seemed so, absent, through most of their near hour-long call now?
“I’d really like you to be there Bucky. Please.” Sam had started to sound desperate and he knew it. What was he doing?
“I want to be there Sam” Bucky was barely speaking above a whisper now. Fuck, Sam thought, the panic rising from his stomach to his throat as he heard his friend’s voice crack “I really do. I just...I don’t know Sam. I don’t know if I will be”.
“Please don’t say that Buck. I know I’m a pain in the ass man, but c’mon you can’t be sick of me yet. And you know, I obviously don’t need help with boats or hero shit, but maybe I’ve gotten used to you coming with, you know?”
Sam had been holding out hope for a snarky response he realised, hoping his gut was over-reacting and that Bucky was going to laugh at him, or grumble at him, or give him any number of other typcial Bucky responses. He realised he’d been hoping for this when Bucky’s response blew that hope out of the water.
“Fuck Sam” he heard Bucky force out through gritted teeth, and then it was gasping on the other end of the line. Sam’s brain froze for a moment as he realised the former Winter Soldier was hyperventilating on the phone to him at 04:30 in the morning, then snapped into action. “Okay, it’s gonna be okay Buck, just try breathe with me alright.” Sam tried counting breaths with him, breathing exaggeratedly down the phone, counting out, but shit this was so hard when you’re not in the room with someone. Bucky was still struggling to breathe, and Sam couldn’t tell if it was sobs or curses he was hearing between the strangled gasps. “Okay Bucky that’s alright, just keep breathing, we’re gonna try and pull you out of that cyborg brain of yours, okay? Okay, can you try focus on where you are for me? Can you look around, tell me where you are?” The panicked breathing continued for a moment before Bucky gasped out “Kitchen, I’m in the kitchen”. “Okay that’s great Buck, now keep breathing, in and out, there we go, and tell me what you see, what you feel okay? “Fuck, uh counter, counter, my hands are on the counter” “Okay that’s great, can you tell me what the counter feels like Buck? Keep breathing that’s it” “Hard. It’s cold”. His breathing was slowing down, and with it Sam’s heart rate as he realised this might be working. “Cold, I’m jealous man, good job you’re sounding better, just keep slowing that breathing down. Now tell me what else you see, tell me what’s on the counter.” he said, before remembering this was Bucky’s apartment, so probably a big fat nuthin’. But then the breathing on the other end of the line seemed to stop altogether, or maybe it just got real quiet and slow and calm, but it seemed like pure silence until it was broken by “My fucking gun Sam”.
——————
Tears spilled down Bucky’s cheeks as he slid down to the floor, back to the counter. Gun still sitting on top of the counter, very much present, but out of his eyeline now for the first time in hours. Bucky was crying as he told Sam what he was looking at, but he felt almost calm now, the terrifying panic he had been in having passed. He knew Sam could hear his breathing as he cried quietly on the floor, but the other man was silent, either letting Bucky cry himself out for a bit or simply not knowing what to say, now that he must surely know what this entire fucking night had been about.
After a while, the tears slowed to a stop and Bucky found he was done crying. The phone was on speaker now, held loosely in his metal hand on the floor, as he wiped his eyes with his person hand and huffed out a laugh “Sorry about that man. Bet you wished you hadn’t answered this call huh?” Sam’s voice sounded soft and caring and a little bit angry when he responded “I sure as hell don’t regret picking up the phone to you Bucky. And you know I’m not hanging up on this thing either”.
Bucky was feeling weirdly elated, like when he and Steve got drunk a few days after Steve’s ma’s funeral. When everything was dark and sad and terrible, but they couldn’t stop themselves giggling at everything and anything, like they were kids again. He felt light, somehow, and while he was pretty sure he couldn’t get high anymore, maybe this feeling was as close as he was gonna get. Maybe that’s why he said what he said next, why he told that story. He sounded so calm to himself when he did.
“You know it took them a while, to figure it out. In Wakanda, to break the programming, get the words out of my head. I didn’t really think they would be able to do it you know? But they had been so nice to me. Ha, figured I sort of owed it to them to play along. Humor them for a bit, let them think there was some hope in fixing me, then let them down easy when none of it worked. And Shuri you know, she’s such a sweet kid, and so goddamn bright, I couldn’t not go along with her on it.”
“But it took a while, to figure out, and I guess they needed me out of cryo for some of that, so I had some time there. Started to get a bit of a life you know. I knew it wouldn’t last, but I convinced myself to enjoy it while I could. And I did. God it’s, it’s beautiful there Sam. Life there, is beautiful.” He took a breath and wiped his eyes again.
“Sorry, I guess the point of that was, Wakanda was good, you know, even then. And then they did it. They figured it out. Ayo took me, and she said the words, and nothing fucking happened. Nothing happened. She told me I was free. And I felt...fuck I think that was the goddamn happiest moment of my life. I was fucking crying, and my heart was fucking breaking over everything, but shit I’d had a, a splinter of fucking hope left for myself by then and they just, they gave me everything. And they didn't even have to. These people didn't owe me shit, and from the goodness of their hearts they did that for me. I was so fucking happy and I was so fucking grateful. Thought my heart would fucking explode.”
Bucky paused for a second, remembering. Then he cleared his throat and continued his story. “Ayo told me I was free. Wanna know the first I did with that freedom? That next morning, the morning after the happiest moment of my fucking life, in the most beautiful place in the damn world, I walked down to the lake to watch the sunrise. I stood in the water, and I watched it, and with my one fucking arm I picked up the knife I’d brought and I cut my femoral artery.”
Sam made a noise on the other end of the line, like he was trying to stop himself from making a sound. Bucky continued “I don’t know how the fuck they got to me fast enough. Even with the beads, they must have been keeping an eye on me to get there that quick. I don’t really remember it to be honest. Just the water and that feeling…”
“I was devastated when I woke up. Not to be alive, but seeing their fucking faces. After everything they’d done for me and the first thing I do is throw is back at them. And the fucking, the pity in how they were looking at me. I honest to god would have taken Hydra over that right then.”
“They never told anyone else. Never told Steve, I begged them not to, made them swear. I knew they hated that, but I was so fucking glad, so righteous, when he decided to go back. I don’t know if he would have done it had he known. He could be such an idiot sometime you know? Ha, I mean, yeah, YOU know.”
“It took me a long time to be able to explain it, even to myself. But I think...the programming you know, there was a lot of self-preservation in there. Even before, I don’t think it would have been me, but when they made me what they made me, I fucking couldn’t. Like physically fucking couldn’t. And Jesus Christ Sam I needed to, for so fucking long I needed it to end, I needed to end it, for so fucking long. Any time I started to come back to myself it was all I had, just this goddamn fucking need to die that I couldn’t make happen no matter how much I wanted to. I just, I needed it so badly and for so fucking long.”
“And then I was finally able to. They set me free, and suddenly this thing that I had craved with my whole fucking being for seventy years was there right in front of me. And it didn’t matter that I didn’t need it anymore. That the fact that I was able to do it meant I didn’t need to. They set me free, and after the crying and the gratitude and the happiness, my next thought was, finally. Finally I can fucking die.”
Bucky’s throat felt scratchy from talking for so long, after so long of not talking. He stood back up, placing the phone on the counter next to the loaded gun. He still felt surprisingly calm.
“I don’t wanna be dead right now Sam. I don’t. But Jesus I want to kill myself. While I can. While I’m free. Before it all goes to shit again. And I can’t get the thought out of my fucking head. Except maybe with a bullet. And I’m so fucking sorry you’re the one listening to this shit Sam, I owe you so much fucking more than this, and it’s like Ayo and Shuri all fucking over again and I just -”
Bucky exhaled heavily, stopping himself. He stands half bent over, his weight on his hands on the edge of the counter, just breathing. Sam’s voice comes back to him, tinny from the speaker on his phone, sitting on the counter next to the loaded gun.
“That’s a lot of heavy shit you’re dealing with right now Buck. And knowing you, there’s probably a hell of a lot more hurt that you’re hiding. Maybe even from yourself. And I dunno what the right thing is here man, but I do know this. You fucking called me man. You picked up the phone instead of the gun and you called me. And I answered. And now we’re still here, talking, nearly, shit, nearly three hours later, and we’re still fucking here. Both of us. And I am so damn glad for that Buck, I am so glad I picked up that phone, but I am so damn grateful to you for making that choice. And for every second that you keep making that choice.
“And I believe you. I believe you don’t wanna be dead and I believe you are fighting so hard for that right now. I know you’re tired of fighting, I know you’ve gone from battle to battle for far too damn long, but you are not alone in this anymore. I am with you and I will fight with you and I will fight for you, and I will fight you if I have to because you’re goddamn worth it. And I know you’re scared. I know you’ve had every good thing in your life ripped away from you over and over again. But shit man you've survived. And you’re making the world better. You've made good things happen and you can build good things for yourself.”
“I know a bit about losing things, losing people. And I know I wouldn't trade a second of the pain of losing them for never having known them. It’s always been worth the risk. The good shit is always worth the risk. And if you still have even that splinter of hope in there Buck just please hold the fuck onto it with both hand because I swear to god it's worth it.”
Bucky raises his head back towards the phone on the counter, tears on his face again as he laughs “You write that all down earlier or was that freestyle?”. Sam laughed back at him “Alright Slim Shady, don’t you start telling me you know about rap now”. Bucky draws in a shaky breath.
“It’s nearly six now, which means suns coming up here in Delacroix. I dunno if you big city folk still use natural sunlight up there, but I’d like you to do me a favour Buck and we can start this day off right. That sound okay?”
“Mmhm” Bucky responds, all he can manage. “Okay. Then once you do me this favour, we’re both gonna turn on the TV, and we’re gonna synch up and watch some of those godawful cartoons Cass and AJ tell me you secretly love, and I’m gonna laugh at you for a while.”
“At, not with?” “Oh definitely at not with, not even a question dude.” “Rude.”
“You ready to do me that favour now?” Sam asked his friend as the first beams of sunlight started to creep in the window in Delacroix. “I think so” comes the voice from New York. “I appreciate that Buck. So can you take the bullets out of that gun for me please? And put it all away somewhere it’s not gonna stare at you while we watch cartoons”.
“I think I can do that”.
So they watch cartoons. And Sam books a flight. And they’re still here.