A glass of scotch
“James, Barnes, Buchanen, Idiot fuck face, whatever you wanna call him” Sam said.
This comment caused Y/N to hit Sam against the chest and laugh. “Sam, you can’t just call him James, that’s disrespectful, you know he hates that.” She said, as if ‘idiot fuck face’ is total appropriate nice language Bucky would just totally love. “So Steve, it’s safe to assume you knew Bucky?”
Steve nodded, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that out of the blue all these memories and reminders of his best friend are coming to haunt him. “How did you know Bucky?” He asked, honestly curious how either of them knew him.
“We went trough training together. Career choices, within the military, let us down different paths, always stayed in touch.” Sam said, the way he talked about their experience together makes it sound so meaningless, sterile, but the tone of his voice was full of respect, love even.
Steve nodded, “Wow, so Barnes really did it. He joined the army.” If one of them wanted to join the army, it would’ve been Steve. He actually applied quite a few times. Always got dismissed, cause of his asthma.
Asthma, something he luckily grew over as he got older. He was also lucky enough to finally gain some weight. A lot of muscle, at that.
“Yeah, well the things we do for family.” Y/N said, this time around she was the one staring at her shoes. “It was uh, nice to speak to you mister Rogers, but I have uhm yeah stuff to do. See you later Sam.” She charged off, not giving either of the men a chance to react.
Steve watched her walk away. He was left pretty confused and as he turned around to look at Sam he noticed the other man looked, well, sad. Yeah that’s the right word, sad.
“What was that all about?” Steve asked, hoping to gain some more information. Y/N hadn’t even told him about her connection to Bucky.
Sam raised his eyebrows, “She’s just having a rough time. Plus she has 3 idiot teens at home, no way Y/N is leaving them unsupervised for to long.” He said with a laugh.
Steve wasn’t buying it for a second, I mean he believed she had teen boys at home. Scrap that he doesn’t believe that. But then again why would Sam lie? He really couldn’t believe that that was the reason she stormed off like that. Definitely not when she was the one that initiated the conversation.
“You know what Rogers, I have V.A. right now, but if you’d like to meet for drinks later, I’ll be at O’Malley’s around 8. Hope to see you there.” Sam shook Steve’s hand once more and walked away.
Steve wasn’t planning on going to O’Malley’s, he really wasn’t. He swears. Yet here he is, a little later then 8. Can’t risk being there before Sam. That would be embarrassing. That’s the way he felt when he waited in his car for 30 minutes to make sure he wasn’t early. Now, however, he was kind of regretting that decision and wishes he would’ve gone earlier. It’s rude to be late after all.
It wasn’t that hard to find Sam. The town in which they lived, sadly, had a very limited amount of racial diversity. So Sam was one of two black guys there. He was sitting at the far left corner of the bar. Nurturing something that looked like, Scotch?
Steve had thought him to be more of a beer kind of guy, but whatever.
“Hey, Rogers! You made it!” Sam said, he sounded genuinely happy to see him there. Also a little surprised, that was to be expected though, Steve hadn’t exactly been excited when Sam offered to meet him there.
Steve nodded, “Peggy, my oldest, was complaining that I never get out of the house anymore, so I figured, why not.” He was trying to play it cool, as if it was just something casual. As if he hadn’t been in social exile for these last few years. He totally had been.
Sam laughed, it wasn’t forced. Sam was perhaps the first person Steve had a conversation with since Angela died that didn’t treat him like he could break at anything that was said.
This became very clear when 4 beers in he jokingly said; “I bet you have a lot more closet space, you know now the missus clothing ain’t taking up all the space.”
Steve fell silent.
“Oh jesus Christ, fuck” Sam quickly realized what he had said, how wrong it was. “Steve I am so sorry I shouldn’t have. I am so-“
Steve cut him off mid-apology, “Please Sam, don’t apologize. You’re the first one to talk about her death like it isn’t some insane subject we can only speak about in serious sad tones. You’re the first one to talk about her in a way she would’ve enjoyed, a happy, funny way.” And Steve needed that. He didn’t say that out loud however. He couldn’t, not just yet.
“Oh okay, well no problem, I guess”
And in that moment Steve knew he and Sam would be friends. He really understands what Bucky sees in this guy.
Speaking of Bucky, “How does Y/N know Bucky?” Steve asks.
Sam’s entire posture changes, he looks way more uncomfortable then before. Tense even. “Y/N and Bucky, they’re married.”
Steve was right, she is Bucky’s wife. She’s a lot younger then Steve would’ve imagined, but he could be wrong, he doesn’t know her age after all. That doesn’t explain the sudden shift in Sam’s demeanor though. So Steve looked at Sam, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Well I guess I should say were married. God, I don’t think I can ever get used to that. Sometimes it just feels like a bad dream, like he’ll just walk trough that door. You know, like he used too, shit eating grin on his face, Y/N on his arm. He won’t, I just can’t believe he’s really dead. You know?”
It felt as if Steve’s heart stopped and time stood still right after those words left Sam’s mouth. Bucky is dead.
“What did you just say?”