story
Sam,
This must be a nightmare. A story I can walk out of. This isn’t my story. I wanna can rewrite. I wanna erase it, start over. Maybe, a new story. The girl and the guy got a happy ending, can’t I? Can’t we? Where’s my happy ending? When do I get to walk into the sunset, have everything beside me, behind me, beside me. When can I rewrite my nightmare, and make it a dream. A dream with you.
Wish I was yours,
J.B
Bucky sighed, closing his notebook. If only he could actually muster up enough strength to actually talk to Sam, and not just sit alone in his apartment and write love letters like he’s a 13 year old with a crush. He used to feel like that, when he left the notes on his pillow, or beside Sam, while he made eggs, cursing at the pan, or the butter, or himself. And he would hear a rustle of paper, a sigh, and maybe a chuckle. Then, a pair of arms would wrap around his waist, a soft kiss pressed to his temple, a comment on the note. And they would smile. And they would be happy. And they would live in a dream. Their happy ending. Watch the sun rise, and the sun set.
Not anymore. Now, they were in a nightmare, miles apart, lost whispers, forgotten touches, and kisses that didn’t last long enough. It had been about three weeks since his birthday, and Sam had only texted him once. He deserved that, with how he acted, how he’s been acting for the past 4 months. He might- he could apologize. He thinks he’s getting there. God, he hopes he is. He really, really hopes he is.
~~~~~~~~~
Sam ended up just ignoring the email Raynor sent. He figured it was to send a message to him. “Your crazy ex is talking about you please help.” type of message. But that wasn’t what he was focused on right now. Sam has been assigned a mission in Ohio. He figured after it ended, he’d go see Nat. He didn’t anticipate seeing a torn up pride flag in the window of the kid he saw with Bucky, months ago. He felt his throat close up, like the earth was getting smaller, maybe it was spinning faster. That’s probably why Sam was so dizzy. He stood against the fence, trying to steady himself, steady his mind.
Another reason Sam can’t take the shield. There’s millions of reasons why, but seeing a torn up pride flag in a kids window is all he needs to know. If he held the shield, there’d be outrage, people would… god knows what they’d do. But Sam doesn’t want to deal with it, he knows that. God, he needs to get that damn thing out of his house. He would’ve done a long time ago, but maybe some part of him was hoping Bucky would come to his senses. That he could wait for Bucky’s hand on his shoulder and quiet words of encouragement. But Bucky’s not here. So, Sam thinks it’s time. The shield has to go. But he could still use a few words of encouragement
~~~~~~~~
Bucky felt himself cut through the air, drifting and flying and falling and… Sam caught him. He felt Sam’s sturdy arms around him, and he was safe. So, maybe this wasn’t a nightmare. Didn’t seem like one. He was safe. He felt Sam around him and that was enough. Sam was here.
Bucky saw black. But he wasn’t dead. He was on the ground. But Sam was gone. He felt a gun in his hand. A gasp escaped his lips. Where was Sam? Bucky didn’t see him. Didn’t hear him. Didn’t feel him. “Sam!” Bucky cried out, desperate. He felt like the room was spinning, well, it probably was.
He saw him. With a bullet in his heart.
“Sam.” Bucky breathed out, rushing towards him. Bucky killed Sam. Bucky killed Sam’s heart.
Bucky awoke with a gasp and a shudder that night. He killed Sam. He didn’t mean to. He didn’t even know how it happened. But he killed Sam. And right now, he needed nothing more than to hear him. Hear the smile in his voice. Bucky needed him. He saw his phone light up, the white glow illuminating his entire apartment. Shaky hands reached up and grabbed the phone, searching for any saved voicemails, or videos, or something.
“Hey Buck.”
~~~~~~~~
“Hey Sammy.”
~~~~~~~~
“I can’t find the proper plums, my condolences.”
~~~~~~~~~
“I regret to inform you that they have no grapefruit Halls.”
~~~~~~~~
“Uh, you seemed pretty shaken up from the nightmare.”
~~~~~~~
“You woke up looking a little… shaken last night.”
~~~~~~~~~
“It’s gonna be okay, you know ”
~~~~~~~~~
“I promise, you’ll be okay.
He was okay. He was okay. He was walking over to Nat’s grave, he saw the tree hanging over all the pictures. All the memories. He heard Bucky’s voice. Bucky was telling him it’d be okay, he’d be okay.
~~~~~~~
“It’s gonna be okay.”
“It’s gonna be okay.”
“It’s gonna be okay.”
It’s gonna be okay. Bucky keeps replaying the message over and over and over again. Then, he scrolls through his phone, looking of another one. This time it’s a video. From Wakanda.
“So to recap.” It’s Nat. Her smile is vibrant, and her hair is platinum. It makes a few more tears roll down Bucky’s face. “Steve, and Sam, two very respectable men, have decided to drink goat bath water. Now, you may be thinking, isn’t Wakanda technologically advanced? Well, to that I say, is the face of America supposed to be drinking goat bath water? No, he should not. And Barnes should not have convinced the princess of Wakanda to take out the filter for the bath water, but here we are.” Bucky laughed, soft and broken, but he laughed, because he remembers that day. Sam had the dumbest grin on his face, because as it turned out, he was able to drink more disgusting goat water than Steve. Apparently he considered this an achievement. Well, as much as one could possibly consider it an achievement. Bucky, however, did not.
“We have also invited princess Shuri, King T’Challa, and the delightful General Okoye, to watch this disaster.” Nat explained, her smile still on her face. It made Bucky smile. God, they were so happy. They were so… okay.
“Alright, ready boys?” Nat asked, the camera turning with her as she turned to where Sam and Steve stood. In front of them, there are three buckets. Two with vile goat water, and another one for the inevitable future of them spiting out the water. The two of them only nodded, which prompted another piece of information from Bucky.
“We should remind you all that they have agreed not to talk… for some reason.” The wordless expressions on Sam and Steves face make Bucky laugh, both in the video and as he watches it.
“I did not ditch Nakia for this nonsense.” Okoye muttered from the side, and Bucky grinned, tears rolling down his face. God, he missed them so much.
“Ok, ok. Three, two, one, go!” Safe to say, neither lasted very long. Sam was the victor, but even in his competitiveness, Bucky vaguely remembers, as the video cuts off, Sam saying: “That was not worth it at allI.”
Bucky misses when it was simple.
~~~~~~~~~
“God, remember when me and Steve drank goat bath water.” Sam head was resting against the called stone. “That was so dumb. I should’ve pushed you and Bucky in that damn water. Your faces we’re too smug, I swear.” Sam laughed to himself, remember the face of disgust Steve made, the laughter of Bucky, of Nat, of Shuri, of Okoye, of T’Challa. The sun beaming down. The water could’ve been a nice relief if it wasn’t absolutely disgusting.
“I miss you, Nat.” his voice was quiet, almost like it was a secret. Like if someone knew he hurt. Knew how much he missed Nat as much as he did, he would become vulnerable. And he couldn’t have that. He needed an outer shell of some kind, a guard. He’s let it down too many times already. He always knew how to be strong. If he let himself fall, he was afraid he’d shatter. That’s why he always catches himself. That’s why he can never forgive himself when he can’t catch someone else.
“I miss everyone.”
Sam must’ve not heard the crunching leaves, the footsteps that approached him, or the fact that someone settled on the other side of the headstone. He only noticed the soft sniffle from beside him, and turned to see Yelena, her blonde hair blowing gently in the window.
With a start, Sam gets up, brushing the leaves off his jeans. “You know, you don’t have to leave every time I show up here.” Yelena said to him, not looking up. Sam’s eyes widened, as if he thought she didn’t notice that that’s what he does every damn time
“I just, I figured you’d want to be alone.” Sam said quietly, fidgeting with his hands. Yelena scoffed, shaking her head.
“Do you want to be alone, Sam?” that was a loaded question. Does he? No. Is he? Probably.
“I- no”
“Neither do I. So, maybe, since we’re both alone, and if you don’t mind, stay.” Yelena said, a small smile Sam can hear in her voice. Sam smiled too, and sat back down without another word. Tears fell between the two of them, and then they left, side by side. They both knew what each other was feeling without even asking. They had both lost so damn much.
~~~~~~~~~
Sam’s home, a jab from Sarah about being gone for so long, a tackle from his two nephews, and now, he was up in his room, his eyes glued on the shield. He put this off long enough. The shield was going back to where it belonged. In the Smithsonian. Out of Sam’s story.