It doesn't take long for Sam to learn that hope can arrive in many surprising forms. Namely, an armada of Asgardians plus a familiar Hulk led by Thor, and a group of colourful individuals calling themselves the Guardians of the Galaxy.
Sam's not sure how much faith he has in their new allies, especially when one of them looks suspiciously like a racoon, and honestly he's getting pretty sick of constant weirdness being thrown his way as if his life has become a drug-fuelled trip, but he's hardly going to refuse the offer of help. The extra manpower seems to be making a difference, if their ability to fight for five hours without being wiped out is any indication, and he can only hope that Thanos is starting to feel less like a victor and more like someone who needs to watch his back.
The fight's been brought to Washington D.C. this time around. Sam tries to ignore a growing sense of déjà vu as he powers through faceless hordes of aliens set on terrorising the city streets, as well as the unfamiliar weight of the shield in his hands, and instead focusses on the sensation of wind against his face as he flies and the endless chatter from the comms. Not much of what is being said is helpful, but it's a reminder that his team-mates are alive and kicking and it's a vast improvement over the silence that had so often accompanied him in New York.
The new arrival, Peter Quill, seems to be dominating the conversation for the moment, although Stark's voice is usually present as well:
"So, what is it you guys are avenging anyway?"
"I'm pretty sure you'll find the answer if you take a look around."
"Fair enough. I thought it was just some pretentious name you thought sounded cool."
"Hmm. So tell me, Space Dork. If you're the 'Guardians of the Galaxy', how come we've never heard of you?"
Sam tries not to smirk at Quill's scandalised response, and instead focuses on the immediate threat in front of him. The portals have returned to the skies, seeming to spark blue electricity towards the earth even as the barrage of creatures emerging from their depths seem to die down. From what he's heard, Thor and his army have managed to contain most of the creatures and are handling them pretty much single-handedly, and though Thanos seems to be in hiding, Hulk, Wanda and the Guardians are on the hunt for him. Sam and Bucky are mostly responsible for cleaning up the dregs of alien hordes that have managed to escape Thor's barricade, and he's grateful that they provide little enough challenge that he can become mindless as he mows them down.
It's a lot easier to fight when throwing aside his mental baggage, he finds. He wonders if Bucky feels the same.
Their fight slowly takes them towards Capitol Hill, with every street they turn into becoming more and more deserted. Sam barely has the ability to flinch at the sight of smoking buildings reduced to broken husks by this point; it isn't long before they're brought face-to-face with something more disturbing anyway.
"What the hell?" Bucky mutters under his breath, and Sam finds himself silently echoing the sentiment.
Before them is a crowd of around five hundred civilians, all armed with weapons ranging from knives to baseball bats, and one look into their faces shows eyes which seem to have been forged in ice; the lifeless blue resembling the colour of the horrifying blast that had destroyed a good chunk of New York.
It takes longer than it should for him to connect the dots and link what he's seeing with reports from the Avengers' very first outing – how Loki's sceptre had been able to turn good people into murderous slaves – and by the time he's figured out exactly what's happening, the crowd have already started to advance.
"Shit," he shouts as the horde races towards them, and he only has a second to react when he sees Bucky raise his gun in defence. "Don't! They're under Thanos's control; they don't know what they're doing."
Bucky lowers his gun without hesitation, knowing the sickening implications of Sam's words better than most. After a split second that seems to stretch for hours, Sam leaps towards Bucky and grabs him before extending his wings and taking flight, swearing under his breath when his muscles protest at having to support the man's weight. They set off just in time to evade the crowd however, and Sam looks down to see them staring up at him with bloodlust in their faces, like a pack of zombies who've just been denied a meal.
He carries Bucky as far as he can until necessity demands they land before he accidentally lets go, and he descends upon a blown apart, but mercifully deserted, street. The landing is rougher than he'd like, courtesy of having to juggle a super-soldier and a shield in his arms, and Bucky collapses in a heap when he's finally released, still reeling from their sudden flight.
Sam resists the urge to tease him, despite how nice it would be to revel in their old dynamic for a little while, and instead speaks into his microphone, addressing the Avengers who are hopefully still fighting somewhere.
"Avengers, it's Sam. We've just come across a crowd of civilians we think are under the influence of the mind stone, or whatever the hell it's called. There's probably more of them out there. If they see you they'll try to attack, but it's important that you don't hurt them. They don't have control over their actions."
He tries to swallow a wave of hatred towards Thanos; tries to keep his head cool in a situation where it's desperately needed, but it's far more difficult than he'd like. He's seen mind control tear people apart far too many times, and the idea that hundreds of innocent civilians, perhaps even children, have been forced to become vicious killers against their will makes him feel sick. He only hopes that his message has been noted – that none of them will be hurt – but there's no guarantee of that if their only goal is to attack Thanos's opponents en masse.
"Message noted, Sam. I'll pass it along to everyone else."
"Thanks, Tony," he replies, before turning abruptly at the tell-tale screech of alien attackers. A group of three have begun to scout the area, and at the sight of Sam and Bucky their weapons have been raised. Sam barely has time to duck behind a pile of rubble before a flash of blue flies past and knocks a chunk out of the building behind him, and a muffled curse and sudden movement at his side is his first sign that Bucky has joined him. He turns to the man and nods once before emerging from his hiding spot and firing his gun at the aliens.
Bucky joins him in a heartbeat, firing a bullet directly into one of the creature's skulls, and Sam raises his shield as another blue blast makes its way towards them. The impact the energy makes against the shield is dizzying, and he finds himself momentarily deafened as the blast ricochets into an upturned car, reducing it to a flaming mess. There's only one creature left at this point – Bucky having been able to take out another – and Sam throws the shield towards the last with as much force as he can.
The weapon collides against the creature's neck with a satisfying crack, and Sam crosses the street to reclaim it, breathless from the fight and feeling sweat crawl down his neck at the heat from the flames. He revels in the silence for a few moments – the calm before another inevitable storm – but any peace he can indulge in is shattered when he looks up and sees Bucky's face.
The man isn't looking his way, but at something just behind him. Instinct screams at Sam to turn around and look for himself, but he's momentarily caught in the way Bucky's face has gone white, his breath trapped in his chest and his mouth open with the intention of saying words that refuse to come forth.
When he finally utters a choked "Sam," the curiosity becomes more than Sam can bear, and he turns around.
His heart seems to sink into a pit in his stomach and he can feel the blood drain from his face as his mind becomes blank. He thinks he breathes, although it seems to take a lot of effort to do so, and it's like what his eyes are telling him has turned his legs to water. By some miracle he manages to remain standing, but it's the only display of strength he's capable of, as when he tries to speak the word comes out in a breathless whisper.
"Steve?"
The sight of the man he'd assumed to be dead should have hope racing through his heart, but Sam can't dwell on that. Steve looks like he's been dragged through hell; the fabric of his uniform torn and frayed and covered in a sickening dried red. His hands are covered in crusted blood as well, and Sam can't help but think that not all of it is his own.
The worst part is Steve's eyes. Kind, warm blue has given way to ice; his expression reduced to thoughtless steel.
Sam's seen that shade of blue enough times today to know exactly what he's facing, and he feels an overwhelming urge to be sick.
The weight of everything they're seeing has no time to sink in before Steve charges, fist held back ready to strike, and Sam thanks whatever reflexes compel him to raise the shield on time. The impact of the punch sends shockwaves throughout his arms, shaking his very bones, and even the shield seems to protest with a sharp shriek. Steve's fist is pulled back for another hit, and Sam edges backwards as much as he dares, but the punch doesn't have time to land before it's halted by a metal fist emerging from Sam's side.
"Steve, this isn't you!" Bucky shouts with as much conviction as he can muster, but the words seem to have zero impact on their friend. His empty, ice-blue eyes seem to pierce right through Bucky like he's a piece of meat, and Sam resists the urge to shudder as he slams the shield into the man's wrist, forcing him to let go of Bucky's arm. The impact doesn't even seem to cause pain, although Sam finds himself wondering if Steve can feel it in whatever corner of his mind he's buried in.
Attacking him seems to have been a mistake, for Sam finds himself being the full holder of the man's attention. He dances backwards, away from Steve's every blow, as carefully as he can and raises the shield when it's not quite far enough. He knows this pattern of constantly blocking won't be enough however, and he becomes very aware of his gun in its holster, seeming to burn into his thigh as it begs to be used.
Sam can't use it though. He never could. He spent the last two weeks thinking Steve was dead, seeing his broken body in what few dreams he had, and he knows he can't be responsible for being the true cause of the man's death, even in order to protect himself. Aiming for the shoulder or leg won't be enough to stop him if he can't feel pain and there's nothing Sam can say that will pull the all-consuming influence of the Mind Stone out of Steve's head. Bucky won't dare hurting him either, even if their lives depend upon it. They'll be holding back constantly while Steve attacks without restraint, and Sam knows there's only one way this can end.
They're going to lose.
The notion barely has time to settle in his mind, before a surprise swing from Steve is enough to knock the shield from his grasp. Sam's heart halts and time seems to slow in the second it takes for Steve to take advantage of the new opening and launch himself at him, throwing him onto his back. The impact knocks the breath from Sam's lungs and his vision goes white for a moment, and he barely has time to recover before there's a tight, suffocating grip around his throat.
He hears the word "No!" being shouted off to his side, and sees Bucky approach with the aim of pulling Steve away, but he's thrown back into a wall by a harsh shove. Sam sees the man lying still in his peripheral vision, but he barely has time to feel concern before strong hands return to his throat, cutting off his air.
He pushes against Steve's chest with as much strength as he can muster, before clawing at his arms when that doesn't work, but his weak efforts only make the man tighten his grip. It takes a momentous effort to speak, and when he does the words come out in a choked rasp, barely audible even to his own ears.
"Steve," he starts, the word seeming to burn in his throat. "It's me, it's Sam. Please…"
He thinks he feels those hands loosen their grip a little, can taste delicious oxygen for one brief, heavenly moment, but the battle Steve seems to be fighting in his head appears to be a losing one as the grip tightens once again. Sam fights back as much as he can, even as all energy seems to bleed from him and his lungs scream in his chest, but it isn't long before his vision starts being reduced to static and his consciousness escapes him.
He only has a moment to dwell on what a terrifying creature the super-soldier programme might have created had Steve not been so fundamentally good.
Relief comes with a flash of silver, and the sensation of oxygen filling his lungs once more has him gasping. He coughs violently and turns onto his side as air flows through his throat, causing a burning sensation which he can hardly complain about, and he wastes far too much time waiting for his vision to return before checking to see what's going on.
Bucky doesn't seem to be as badly hurt as Sam feared, as he's been able to wrap his arms around Steve and pull him back while he shouts out reminders that the man in his arms refuses to take in. Steve lashes out viciously, fighting to free himself from Bucky's grip, and it isn't long before he succeeds in throwing Bucky off him and onto the ground.
Bucky falls with a pained grunt, but rises to his feet as quickly as he can and launches himself towards the discarded shield, wielding it just in time to block a fierce blow from Steve. He rises to his feet, stumbling a little in the process, and holds the shield out in front of him as a thin veil of protection.
"Steve, you know us," he says, his words falling on deaf ears as their friend continues his advance. "You've known me since we were kids; you've known Sam since-"
He's silenced when Steve launches a barrage of assaults, trying to aim his blows in the areas unprotected by the shield, but Bucky's reflexes are too quick for any to land on their desired target. The shield screeches in protest with each punch it endures, the sound providing a grotesque symphony to their fight, and Sam tries to rise to his feet in order to help only for his legs to turn to jelly and collapse from underneath him, his body still starved of precious oxygen.
He can only watch as Steve grows bored and ferociously yanks the shield out of Bucky's hands, and the other man barely has time to look stunned before a punch finally lands at the side of his head. Bucky collapses to his knees, dazed, before falling onto his back.
It only takes a second for Steve to straddle him, shield raised, and Sam watches as Bucky instinctively raises his metal arm over his head just in time. There's a sickening screech of metal as the arm is dislocated at the elbow, the underlying mechanics glowing hot as they're exposed, and any strength that holds the arm up leaves Bucky in an instant as it simply flops back down on the tarmac.
The next few moments seem to stretch over hours. All sound leaves Sam's consciousness besides his harsh breaths, and he shakily rises to his feet as he sees the shield held high once more. He stumbles in the direction of his two friends and thinks he yells at Steve to stop, although he can't hear the words. Bucky doesn't bother protecting himself this time, his eyes moving to the blue skies above as a calm, resigned expression crosses over his face. The sight makes Sam's heart leap into his throat.
He prepares to throw himself at Steve, to return Bucky's favour and risk his own life to save him, but time continues to pass in slow motion. He watches the shield linger in the air for a painfully long while, sees something that might be hesitation pass over Steve's face, and a foolish hope crosses over him before he watches, powerless, as the shield begins its descent.
It's in that moment that a thrum of energy launches through the air, piercing them as easily as wind and carrying a flurry of dust with it, and Sam finds himself being thrown back as his vision darkens.
Sam isn't sure how long he lies there, his cheek resting against cool tarmac and his lungs breathing in the dust. He's curled on his side and so exhausted he could just sleep and let the rest of the battle go on without him, and he must doze for a few moments as he ends up waking with a start, fighting for air. He should get up, he knows, but he's terrified of what he's going to find when he does, and it's just so much nicer to keep his eyes closed and pretend that the rest of the world doesn't matter.
Sound returns to him eventually, and it's a surprise when the silence gives way to reveal someone struggling to sit up from the rubble, while another seems to be catching their breath. The sound provides some reassurance that Sam isn't alone, and it's this promise that has him sitting up, groaning as his muscles protest with every movement.
All three of them are sitting up and looking around at their surroundings, stunned. The shield lies beside Bucky, mercifully not having delivered a fatal blow, and the man looks towards Sam with a weak smile before they both turn their attention to Steve.
Their friend's eyes are narrowed in concentration, his every breath deliberate, and Sam isn't sure how long he spends watching his every action before he sees a relieved sob escape him.
"It's gone," Steve says, the words emerging in a barely-there whisper. A brief, disbelieving laugh leaves him before turning into a choked sob, and he leans back against an abandoned car, suddenly drained. "It's gone."
Sam notices that his eyes are now a familiar shade of blue, with just the slightest hint of green, and a wonderful relief threatens to overwhelm him as well.
Both he and Bucky edge closer to Steve, cautious, as if afraid he'll disappear if they get too close, but it's Bucky who gives into temptation first and throws his arms around him. Sam notices that he's shaking and that silent tears are pricking at his eyes, and it's only now that he acknowledges his own and furiously wipes the salt from his face.
He wastes no time in joining the hug and finds himself being pulled in more tightly by Bucky, and he closes his eyes and simply indulges in the sensation of being able to hold the people who matter most to him; both of them alive and breathing in spite of all that they've faced. He hears Steve whisper "I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" in between sobs, likely not ignorant to the brutal fight they've all emerged from, but his apologies are rescinded by Bucky's constant mantra of "It wasn't you, Steve."
Sam can't tell if he himself is saying anything, although it would explain why he keeps hearing a choked voice saying "you're here, you're alive" over and over.
The world could end in this moment. They could be wiped out in a heartbeat, and he wouldn't care one bit.
Sam looks up and is surprised to see only a blue, portal-less sky looking back; the barrage of creatures he's come to expect absent from sight. It's strange how little impact the image has on him, although he does get a brief sense that he must be dreaming even when the ache from every muscle seems to be telling him otherwise.
A whir of mechanics and the clunk of something returning to earth has them all looking up to see Tony, who suddenly goes still as his eyes fix on Steve. The man looks as battered as Sam feels, nursing an impressive black eye and wearing a suit that seems to have more scrapes than untouched paint, but his eyes brighten as what he's seeing finally sinks in, and he collapses to his knees in front of the trio as if the weight of the battle has only just hit him.
"You're not exactly in the habit of staying dead, are you?" he asks teasingly, although even the joke isn't enough to hide the extent of his relief.
Steve laughs weakly, his exhaustion evident. "Apparently not."
Tony seems to fight an internal battle for several seconds before giving in and dragging Steve into what must be a fairly uncomfortable hug thanks to the Iron Man suit, but neither of them seem to mind. Sam notices Tony drop any pretence the minute Steve can't see him – watches as he blinks away tears and releases a weak, shuddering breath – but he doesn't say anything. He understands all too well how Stark feels; thinks he could explode from the intensity of having his suffocating grief wiped from his body so suddenly.
"Never do that to us again," Stark mutters under his breath, the words being carried by the surrounding, unnatural silence. Sam doesn't hear Steve's response, but his heart twists a little at the knowledge that no matter what he says, it's not a promise he can guarantee.
They pull apart eventually, and the four of them are left catching their breath, trying to make sense of the sudden stillness. In the end, it's Bucky who comes out and asks the question playing on their minds.
"What happened?"
Tony looks over to Bucky, his expression unreadable as his eyes wander over the ruined arm. Any hint of his old thirst for vengeance melts away in an instant, however, as he adorns a disbelieving smile and looks around at their surroundings.
"We won."
Sam can do little more than breathe out a short "huh". Looking around at the deserted, war-torn streets, it doesn't really feel like they've won. Even with their impressive allies and willingness to fight to the bitter end, he'd never really believed that winning was a goal they could achieve, and even with those wonderful words out in the open, denial still clings to him like a disease.
The sky is clear though. The distant sounds of battle have ceased. The Mind Stone's effects have vanished and Steve is here, alive and whole in a way Sam hadn't dared dream he would ever be again, and both he and Bucky have survived hell together.
The aftermath isn't going to be easy. It never is. A lot of people have died, a lot of homes have been destroyed, and the trauma of Thanos's assault isn't something that can be easily forgotten.
Sam thinks he can live with that though.
It's not long before he closes his eyes, rests his head against Bucky's shoulder, and lets the tension of the past weeks simply drift away into dust.
A/N - Because this story absolutely refuses to end, ten chapters will now be eleven (including an epilogue). I think I've gotten a little carried away...
Thanks again for all of your feedback. I really appreciate it! I'm sorry for the pain of the last two chapters; hopefully this one makes up for it a little.
