Chapter 12
Bucky woke up with a gasp, the feeling of sand filling his lungs as he tried, and failed, to breathe. So many bodies on his hands, flashes of the gun in his hand, the smell of the gunpowder, the sound of the gun going off. It rang in his ears, eyes queasing shut as he panted for breath. Closing his eyes hardly helped, visions replaying in his head of the nightmare he had suffered, hands gripping the sheets impossibly tight.
Sam frowned, going from a deep slumber, to half asleep, to wakeful when he felt and heard his boyfriend panting desperately for breath beside him. He turned to face the panicked man. "Honey.. hey, Bucky? Can you hear me?" He whispered gently.
Bucky didnt hear a lick of what Sam was saying, rocking back and forth as a way of self soothing as he choked on his breath and whimpered through the memories.
Sam sighed, taking that as a no, and decided to literally take matters into his own hands. He was slow and careful with his movements as he wrapped an arm around the shaking man and pulled him forward against his chest.
Bucky sucked in a deep breath and pushed Sam away roughly, eyes wide as they tried to focus in the dark light. "...Sam?" He whispered, voice wavering as he recognized his boyfriends face and body.
Sam didn't retaliate physically, hell he wasn't even angry. He understood that wasn't Bucky, or at least not him all the way. He stayed still, not attempting to hug him again until the man was ready. "Yeah, it's just me Bucky. I'm not gonna hurt you.”
Buckys hands shook as they moved from Sams chest, sighing in exhaustion as he layed ontop of the Captain, buring his face in his neck. Silent tears wet Sams skin, Bucky gripping the mans tank top tightly as he shook in his boyfriends arms.
Sam hummed softly, releasing a huff of breath when Bucky's weight pushed him into the mattress slightly. But he wouldn't complain even if he wanted to, which he didn't. He rubbed circles into the man's sweaty back, being careful of the area where his arm had been grafted to his skin, knowing that was a sensitive spot in times like this.
Bucky tried his best to focus on the hand moving on his tattooed back, but it didnt help with the memories still wiping through his head. He hadnt had a nightmare this bad in awhile, thanks to Sams presense and the relaxing domesticity of Delacroix and the Wilsons.
Sam was patient as he was gentle, not daring to try to escape from below his boyfriend just yet. He'd give Bucky all the time in the world if he had to, to be sure he was alright. After a while, Sam began to hum and murmur soft reassurances to the man.
It was a good half-hour before the super soldier had calmed down, moving away from Sams neck after kissing the wet skin, moving off of Sam to cuddle into his side. He wiped his eyes with his flesh hand, sniffling. "Sorry.." He croaked.
"What have we said about being sorry for something like this, honey?" Sam hummed gently, running a hand through the man's sweat slick hair. "You've got nothing to apologize for."
" 't was a bad one..." He whispered, thumb running back and forth on Sams side.
"Hey, we don't need to talk about it right now. Try not to remember it, yeah?" Sam whispered. Although he knew it wasn't that easy. Dreams often haunted him for years after they occured, he knew it was probably the same if not worse for the soldier.
"Time?" He sighed, unmoving. He wanted to stay in Sams arms forever, where he was safe. Where Sam was safe.
Sam glanced up at their alarm clock, seeing the green glow of the lights reading 4:37. "It's almost 4:40 in the morning, Buck... Do you think you can get back to sleep for me?"
"Hell no." He huffed, voice muffled as he squished his face into Sams peck. "F'i sleep again im gonna have another one." He said, reffering to the nightmare.
"Late night coffee date?" Sam asked softly, frowning in thought. "Or maybe we could just take a walk, it's probably nice and cool outside. Help you clear your thoughts?"
“Please." He breathed out, shuffling to sit up, mentally pouting as he lost the contact with his lover.
Sam nodded and sat up beside his boyfriend, wrapping an arm around his waist to keep him still for a moment. "Take it easy, alright babe?"
Bucky grumbled. "Im fine." He sighed, kissing Sams cheek befire standing up. He picked a shirt up off the ground and slid it on, leaving on his sweatpants.
Sam sighed with a shake of his head, moving to do the opposite as he already had a shirt on. He leaned down to pull some socks and shoes on, lacing them up haphazardly. "Ready when you are."
"Think i should bother with my jacket?" He asked, voice quiet as to nit wake the boys or Sarah. He too, pulled on socks and shoesm
"I'm not gonna, but I think it might be smart if you do." Sam shrugged. He often underestimated weather, but honestly didn't care to bring a jacket for an early morning breeze.
Bucky hummed in response. It would be a good idea, given that he never did well with even the slightest bit of cold. He winced as the door creaked as it opened, walking as silent as an assassin, or in his case an ex-assassin, down the hall.
Sam followed close behind, his eyes open wide to absorb as much light as possible in the nearly pitch black house. He applied pressure to the doorknob as he opened the front door, being as silent as possible as he let himself and his boyfriend out.
Bucky grabbed his leather jacket, sliding it on over the light blue shirt he had on as he stepped out after Sam, the teo of them falling into a steady stride down the gravel street. Buckys head felt clear in the cool, crisp night air. He felt like he could breathe easier, eyes closing as he stepped.
Sam could feel the calm radiating off of his boyfriend and smiled softly as they walked. The only sounds to be heard were the constant chirps of crickets and the crunch of gravel below their feet as they walked. It felt like they were the only ones in town at the moment, and it was eerie, but also oddly calming.
"Thank you." Bucky whispered, breathing in deep before sighing. "I needed this."
"I could tell you did," Sam responded, his hand brushing against Bucky's cold metal one. "It's been a while since we've taken a walk this this, huh?"
"Its never been at four a-m though." He snickered, taking Sams hand without any doubts about the strength of the metal material. He was comfortable enough with Sam, it took a long time, but they were alright.
"It's pretty nice though, don't ya think? Nobody's around, feels like we're on top of the world." Sam smiled and looked up at the sky, starts visible thanks to the lack of street lamps on every other block.
"Sam, you can fly. And youre Captain America. You are ontop of the world." He chuckled.
"Well I'd like to beg to differ- you're my world and I've only been under you sooo-"
"You coukd change that. Try bein on top of world. Maybe even rock your world." He snickered, blushing as he played along to Sams metaphor.
"Oh I plan to big shot-" Sam paused, hearing the cliche twig snapping somewhere in the distance. "...Buck." He whispered, voice urgent as he tugged on the man's arm, urging him to stop.
Bucky blsuhed dark, though it faded hearing the snap. He paused, frozen in place as he listened close and looked around them. His heart pounded despite how calm he looked on the outside.
The two men stood frozen in place for an agonizing silent thirty seconds. It was almost as if the crickets and cicadas silences themselves too. Then, heavy footsteps. A middle aged man revealed himself turning a corner, looking scruffy and quite unapproachable. "What do you fags think you're doing out at night? Gonna fuck eachother in one of my alleys?" The older man spat.
Bucky stiffened at the slur, hand tightening around Sams before letting go. "Who said its your alley?" He questioned.
"I say it's my alley. Now you youngins better scram before I put his head," He pointed at Sam. "up your ass."
Bucky snorted at being called youngin. "You should hear yourself, old man. Back off and let us go or youre gonna regret ever speaking to us." His voice was low, monotone and stern. He was amused, glancing to Sam occasionallynto make sure he was okay. Whay could some idiot do to Captain America and trained assassin-super soldier.
Sam puffed his chest out, squeezing Bucky's hand tightly as he squared up to the old man standing a few yards away. "We aren't the feeble twinks you think we are. Now get out if here before you get hurt." The Captain threatened, and still the man didn't budge. If anything, he took a few steps forward. "You two are lucky I don't call my dogs on you right now."
"Youre lucky im tired or your face would be in the dirt right now." He near growled in snarky retaliation. He felt bad, ashamed even for being gay. Like if he wasnt gay then maybe this wouldnt have happened. He was vulnerable despite his strong front and readiness to fight. He felt like a twig on the verge of snapping, falling to the ground. But he stood his ground like a deep rooted tree, protecting himself and the man he loves.
"Like ive said, back. off." He pushed once more, stepping forward himself as he let go of Sams hand, holding the metal hand out as a way of saying 'stay back'. The hand glisened in the mood light, the gold reflecting and shining against the deep grey.(edited)
The man still didn't back off. Instesd, he marched forward and pushed Buck hard, expecting him to tumble back a few steps. The soldier didn't even budge. "What.. what the hell?"
Bucky huffed at the force of the push but stood his ground. "Back off, man." He growled, putting the cold metal hand against the old mans chest.
"Keep your disgusting mitts off me!" The man hollered, aiming a swing directed at Bucky's jaw. But, in a flash, Sam was there to both take the hit directly to his eye, and also push the man back.
Bucky gasped and took a step back. "Sam!" He muttered, pulling Sam back before storming forward. He pushed the man down with ease, chest puffing with anger. No one hurts his Sammy. "What that fuck is wrong with you man?"
"I'm doing the Lord's work." The man seethed, although his hils definitely took a beating from the impact. Damn his old age.
"The Lord would be ashamed of you. I, ahundred and six and ive got a bigger heart then you. Get fucked." He sighed, rolling his eyes and kicking the man when he grabbed his ankle to pull him down. "Dont. Touch. Me." He growled.
Sam was still recovering from his newly received black eye, his eyelids darkening and becoming swollen. He felt horrible that Bucky had to do most of the fighting when he was down. "Buck- let's just go." He mumbled hoarsely. "Yeah, sissy boy. Listen to your bitch for once." The man spat.
Bucky seethed, leaning down to put his metal hand around the mans throat. He applied pressure, a warning for what could happen, the cold metal burning against his warm skin. "Say it again. Fucking say it. SAY IT AGAIN." He yelled, pinning the man to the ground by his throat.
"James!" Sam yelled, grabbing Buck's flesh shoulder in an attempt to knock him out of it and pull him back away from the now cowering man. "Just let it go, Bucky. Let's go home."
Bucky glared at the terrified man one last time before standing up, wiping his knees of gravel. "If i ever see you around these parts again youre done, hear me?" He threatened, voice quieter than before as he gave in to Sams wishes. He already felt himself crumbling inside, the guilt of what he had done even if he hadnt severely injured the man. Part of him keened though, Sam calling him 'James'. He normally didnt like it. Ayo called him that, he didnt mind. Dr. Reynor called him that, he did mind. He didnt like it when she called him James. But when Sam called him that, it felt so endearing. So warm hearted, the way his mother would say it.
The man didn't respond, looking away in embarrassment and silent rage. Sam sighed and grabbed his boyfriend's flesh hand, pulling him away further. "Let's just go, Buck." Sam mumbled, tugging his partner away. He could feel a slight trickle of blood going down his cheek and ignored it.
Bucky tore his glare away from the man, looking to Sam. His eyes widened seeing the mans face. "Shit, Sam..." He mumbled, bringing a gentle hand up to his cheek, not touching it. "C'mon, we gotta get you home." He sighed, beginning to walk home relativly fast. His heart pounded with guilt, shame, anger. Guilty for letting Sam get hurt, guilty for feeling so shameful of his identity. Shameful of his identity in the fact that hes a gay man, and he knew for a damn fact that he wouldve been in far worse trouble if he wasnt in the 21st century. Anger towards the man who came at them, at how the world can still have such cruelty in it.
"I'm really fine, Buck. Don't worry about me. Here, lemme see your knuckles, they're probably bruised real bad." Sam argued, looking down at Buck's flesh hand worriedly. His heart ached at how even people living here could have so much hatred, but he was used to feeling hate like this. It was a sad truth he and so many others including Bucky had to deal with daily.
"I used my metal hand, Sam..." He whispered. He looked down at his feet, gently and sorrowfully letting go of Sams hand to stuff both hands in his pockets. "Im sorry.." He whispered again.
Sam sighed and shook his head. He was still very much on edge, looking ever which way as they walked back home. "It's not your fault, Buck... Tha guy was just a homophobic asshole."
Bucky stayed silent, to far down in his thoughts. After awhile, he spoke up. "Should i just be straight...?" He mumbled his question, wincing as the words left his mouth.
Sam felt his heart drop. He didn't ever want to have this conversation. "Y... you love who you love, Buck... Whether that be men or women, both or neither, I won't hate you for it."
"Back in the 40s... It wasnt.. allowed, you know?" He explained, voice clearly beaten down and broken. "I mean- yeah i fooled around, gave head in alleyways and hoped we didnt get caught.. But- I was never allowed to be public you know? I- Me and Steve..." He trailed off, never finishing his sentence. They were best friends, he reminded himself that every day, but before he met sam there was still apart of him that missed what he once had with Steve before the war. Before Peggy.
Sam frowned. After what had happened his mind was whirling circled in his head, making him go to the worst conclusions possible. "If.. if you're really not gay, I won't hate you for that Bucky... But I don't want you to force yourself to be straight to conform to other people.."
"Hey, woah, no..." He stopped. "I love you. Okay? Like that. Im just... Internalized homophobia, is that what its called?"
Sam let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He nodded, reaching to take Buck's warm hand again. "I... I understand that, yeah."
"Sorry.." Bucky sighed. "So... Me and Steve- we were uh... We were together. Before World War II. It... Didnt last long. I was shipped off and he found Peggy, fell in love while i was a POW... You know, the ussual stuff." He chuckled, trying to laugh off the lasting hurt. "We were almost caught once. Its... Its nice that we dont have to hide. I feel alot more at ease." He rambled.
Sam smiled sadly, knowing this was all things Bucky had probably kept hidden inside for the past few decades. He was proud the man trusted him so much, that he said all of this. "You're right though, you know. We don't have to hide. We can be out and have fucking pride, and it pisses people off. And I'm glad it does. They single themselves out when they show hate."
Bucky blushed and smiled, shaking his head. "You never cease to make me smile." He muttered, stopping and turning to Sam. "Thank you..." He sighed.
Sam smiled despite how much it hurt to. "I'll do anything to keep a smile on your face Bucky." He responded coolly. "And you're welcome, I've got years of therapy on my belt, I'm basically Handy Manny."
"Handy Manny?" He asked, once again ignorant to the childrens cartoon. "And you know... You dont have to keep doin this whole therapist gig with me. Il be okay." He mumbled, beginning to walk the short distance to their porch.
"A kids show." Sam replied softly with a slight laugh, before his expression dampened. "If I don't be there for you in this way... who will be?"
"If all 'professionals' are like Reynor, no one. Il be fine." He grumbled, rolling his eyes. He let go of Sams hand, sitting on the edge of the porch, patting the spot next to him for Sam to sit on the step too.
Sam let out a huff of breath as he sat down beside his love. "You know that mentality isn't really all that healthy, Bucky. The 'Oh, I'm a tough old man, I don't need nobody' way of thinking will only make things worse."
"I never said that..." He mumbled, bobbling his head with a vague hand gesture before scoffing and sighing. "I just... Reynor didnt do shit. All she did was tell me how everything was apart of my pardon and how i was just a burden in her work." He explained. "If all therapists are like her then im not going, i dont want to be a burden on anyone else. I got so much shit, man..."
"Am I like her?" Sam hummed, hoping the comparison would make Bucky understand.
"Youre not a therapist, Sam." He sighed. "Even if you were, youre my boyfriend. You deal with enough of my shit as it is."
"...But an actual therapist could do so much more for you, Buck... More than I can, more than anyone. You don't have to he afraid to open up."
"Last person i completely opened up to left me for some girl in the 40's." He scoffed. "Guess he couldnt handle the shit i live with every fuckin day..."
"Hey, no no don't even say that, Buck. That is not the reason he left you. With all due respect, he... he had his priorities somewhere else. That is beyond your or my control."
"I told him everything right before he left, Sam. Bedore he even decided to go back. I cant help but think its my fault. He wanted Bucky from bedore the war, im.. I'm not that man anymore. And i havent been for a long, long time." He rambled, fiddling with his fingers.
Sam grabbed Bucky's hands within his own, rubbing his thumb across the man's flesh knuckles. "You can't control that. Now can you?" Sam left only a moment of silence, to make the answer quite obviously no. "Him leaving isn't your fault, you big ol chicken butt."
Bucky broke out into laughter. "What the fuck?" He snorted, head falling back with a shoukder racking laugh.
Sam giggled, brows lifting. Didn't expect that to work, He thought happily. "You heard right, mister." He sighed happily after getting over his chuckles. "How about this: we get you a therapist that makes you laugh the way I do."
Bucky quickly calmed down at the mention of theraoy again. "I dont know, Sam..." He mumbled, looking doen again.
"Just give it a try?" He squeezed the ex-assassin's hand. "For me? If it doesn't work then I'll stop bothering you about it."
Bucky sat in silence before sighing again and nodding. "Okay... Okay, fine."
Sam paused. "Wait- you're really gonna do it? Like, for real?"
"You seem so surprised?" He looked up with an amused smirk. "Id do anything for you." He whispered.
Sam smiled, although his expression was tainted with worry and sadness. "I don't want you to do it for me... I want you to do it for you."
"I dont do anything for me." He reminded. Everything the man did was for everyone else, even making ammends seemed to be more about others than himself. Bucky Barnes was truly a selfless individual, to a fault at most times. "One step at a time. Youre actually getting me to agree to this therapy bullshit, stay lucky with that." He chuckled.
Sam laughed softly and nodded, closing his eyes for a moment. "Alright alright, I won't argue anymore. Now let's get back inside and clean up." He sighed and stood up, leaning down to brush his knees and backside off of dust.
Bucky stood up with a quiet groan, stretching his arms up in the air as his back cracked a handful of times. He followed the former Falcon inside and headed to the freezer, getting an ice pack for the mans eye.
"Thanks babe," Sam sighed with a smile, although his expression contorted into a wince rather quickly when the ice made contact with his swollen eye. He hissed, flinching away for a moment. "Shit- ow."
"I know- I know." Bucky cooed, sighing as he put a gentle hand on the back of Sams neck and held the ice pack to his face. "Im sorry..." He whispered.
Sam sighed heavily through his teeth, brows furrowed even though the expression hurt. "...Not your fault." Was all he could get out before groaning in pain.
"Hold it there. Itll help the swelling." He said softly, kissing Sams other cheek. "Lets get you in bed, yeah?"
"But- I wanna help you too." Sam argued weakly, but despite that he still complied and shuffled to the bedroom.
"Im fine." Bucky half-lied. Physically he was okay, and mentally- well, he wouldn't burden Sam with that now. "Just get some sleep."
"I know you're lying.." Sam sighed and shook his head. "Lemme take care of you too." He mumbled as Bucky helped him out of his clothes and below the sheets.
"Cuddles will do me just fine, love." He mumbled as he pulled his own shirt and sweats off, crawling in the bed behind Sam.
"You promise?" Sam whimpered, wrapping his arms loosely around Bucky's torso and snuggling his face against the man's muscular chest.
Bucky couldnt help the smile that crept up his face as Sams head nuzzled below his chin. He wrapped his arms around the other, rubbing his bare back gently. "Yeah." He whispered, kissing Sams head.