(Author's Note - Slight spoilers for Falcon and the Winter Soldier, all Captain America movies, Infinity War, and Endgame. Comments are always welcome. Also posted on AO3 under my user r_n_g_are_dead. Thanks for reading!)

"You can't possibly like the taste of beer that much," Sam said as he helped himself to another bottle of a craft IPA from Bucky's fridge, which was stocked full of an assortment of labels he wasn't familiar with. He was never going to admit that he liked getting trashed on those tropical flavored 'Rita malt beverages in the 25oz cans, but free beer was free beer and he finally had a night off from everything so he was going to drink whatever his bionic partner had for him.

Bucky rolled his eyes and took a swig from his own bottle. He didn't like the taste. In fact, he thought that one tasted like piss with a hint of blueberry, but there wasn't any way he was going to let Sam have the satisfaction of being right.

"I love supporting local businesses," Bucky deadpanned.

Sam laughed and sat back down at the two person table just off of Bucky's kitchen. The top was covered in empty bottles, used plates, and huge open containers of lo mein, peanut butter chicken, and beef and broccoli.

This was the first time Sam was at Bucky's apartment and that seemed like a big deal because Bucky never had anyone over as far as Sam knew. Bucky had asked Sam, since he happened to be in town, to help him carry a mattress up to his fourth-floor walkup and Sam agreed even though they both knew that Bucky didn't need any help carrying anything. Ever. Sam wasn't sure if Bucky wanted to keep a low profile and not draw attention to himself while he moved in his mattress or if it was maybe just an excuse to hang out. Sam accepted the invite, no questions asked. He was appreciative of the dinner and drinks, though. It felt like he was hanging out with an actual friend instead of a guy who he had a mutual friend with.

Ever since Sam officially reclaimed the role of Captain America, "friends" had been coming out of the woodwork wanting to spend time with him. Classmates from grade school. Old girlfriends. Hell, even guys who knew guys he served with. People who would never have given him the time of day before he was an Avenger, let alone the Avenger, unless they needed something from him. Where were those people when his folks died? Where were those people after the blip? He didn't mind Bucky asking him a favor. If anything, it humanized the guy. Plus, Sam fought shoulder to shoulder with the super soldier a number of times by now. That kind of life experience lends itself to helping out even when the guy in question refuses help most of the time.

"I know you can't get drunk," Sam said.

Bucky smiled. "Couldn't before, either."

"Really…" Sam raised his eyebrows. Most of the stuff Sam knew about Bucky from "before" was from Steve. He knew they were best friends since they were kids. He knew about all the Winter Soldier stuff. He knew about Bucky's nightmares and his little notebook/apology tour. But he didn't really know Bucky in the same way that Sam had tried to let Bucky know him by spending time with his sister, her kids, and their community in New Orleans after the whole Flag Smashers ordeal in NYC. On the surface, the man across from him had somehow become Uncle Bucky to his nephews, but Sam still didn't know what went on inside that guy's head 99% of the time. He got a sneak peek when he attended one of Bucky's therapy sessions and when they were both practicing with the shield, but other than that, Bucky mostly kept a tight lip about anything serious.

Bucky chuckled, "Yes, really. A high tolerance for alcohol came in handy when the person you were always with was the biggest lightweight in the history of lightweights."

Steve. Always Steve.

"You miss him." It wasn't a question.

"Every damn day," Bucky replied with a forced smile as he picked at the label on his bottle with his left hand. He didn't have his glove on and Sam watched as the vibranium fingers oh so carefully nudged up a corner of the paper.

Sam leaned back in his chair. "You wanna talk about it?"

Bucky shrugged, still picking at the label. "Do you miss him?"

"Yes and no."

The label picking stopped. "No?"

Bucky stared at Sam with a look that screamed both sheer terror and jealousy.

Sam put his hands up. "Hold on there. I said 'Yes' too, okay? Look…" Sam put his hands down and circled them around his own beer bottle. Sometimes it was easier to talk when your hands were occupied. "I didn't know Steve as well as you did. But he was a friend—a damn good friend, I might add—and a great leader. And sometimes I wish I could call him up and ask him about Cap stuff. But other times, I feel like he, I don't know, he graduated and now we rule the school, you know? We're the captains."

Bucky ducked his head, focusing back on the beer label he was picking at. "No, you're the Captain," Bucky said quietly. Angrily.

"I didn't know he was going to give me the shield, man," Sam said as evenly as he could.

Bucky sniffed and shook his head. "No, I know. And you should be the one to have it." Bucky chuckled humorlessly. "I'm not Captain America material."

"Then what is it?"

Bucky looked back up at Sam, a tear slowly sliding down his cheek. "He left, Sam. He just… he left. Okay? He. Left."

Sam had seen Bucky look like a wounded animal before, but this was something entirely new. This wasn't just pain. "You."

"What?"

Sam clenched his jaw and said the three words he knew would hurt Bucky the most, but the other man had to hear them. "He left you."

After a few moments, a defeated Bucky nodded slowly.

"Have you ever said that out loud before?" Sam asked. Bucky shook his head. "Do you want to?"

Bucky stilled and stared at the table. "He left me." His words were barely a whisper. With a sniff, he forced himself to look up at Sam. "He left… me. He…"

In one fluid motion, Bucky slammed his bottle onto the table, stood up, and went into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

Sam sat at the table for a minute, waiting to see if Bucky was going to come back. When he didn't, Sam busied himself. He got up and rinsed out the empty beer bottles from the table, placing them gently into a designated recycle bin so as not to shatter any of them. He wasn't sure if Bucky was done eating, but putting away the leftovers was something to do, so Sam did it. Not wanting to dig around Bucky's cupboards for cleaning solution, Sam wet a paper towel and wiped off the table.

When Sam was just about done washing the handful of utensils and two plates they had used for their dinner, Bucky came out of the bathroom. His eyes were red and he looked tense, but Sam didn't say anything. If Bucky wanted to talk, then Bucky could talk. Sam knew from his work at the VA that if someone wanted to tell him something, they eventually would on their own terms.

"Did Steve, uh… did he ever tell you about me and him?" Bucky looked at Sam expectantly.

Sam wracked his brain, but nothing super serious came to mind. "About how you constantly had to save him from fights? Yeah."

Bucky took a deep breath and shook his head. "No. I mean about me and him."

Something was almost starting to click, but Sam made sure to keep his face even in case he was very wrong. "I might to need you to elaborate on that."

Bucky swallowed and nodded hesitantly. "Can you get more beer?"

"Sure," Sam replied. He opened the fridge and grabbed two bottles. When he shut the door he saw that Bucky had gone and sat on the couch in the living room. Another new addition to his apartment. While they were carrying up the mattress, Bucky told Sam about how he had some other furniture delivered the week before, but that the delivery guys had asked too many questions and wanted autographs. Sam joked he wouldn't ask questions, nor wanted Bucky's autograph. He was going to try and live up to his promises. Sam wasn't going to pry, but it kind of sounded like something has been on Bucky's mind and maybe he was ready to talk. He knew Bucky wasn't as open with his therapist as he probably should be.

Bucky was on the far end of the couch and Sam had the choice of the seat next to him, the other end of the couch, or a chair across from the couch. The only correct choice was the other end of the couch, so Sam sat down and held out one of the beer bottles to Bucky. He took it and the two men both twisted off their beer caps at the same time, Bucky's falling to the floor and Sam putting his on the coffee table (also new).

"Back when we were kids, me and Steve were best friends. Steve probably told you stuff about growing up together when you guys were trying to track me down after the helicarrier incident. It was also in that stupid exhibit about me in the Smithsonian they used to have up until they realized I wasn't dead. Whatever."

Bucky took a sip of beer and looked out the window. Sam took a courtesy sip of his too because he wasn't about to interject.

"And if one of us wanted to let the other know that he had the other guy's back, we'd say 'I'm with you to the end of the line.' Because that meant you were in it for the long haul, right?"

Bucky turned to Sam and Sam nodded, letting Bucky know he was listening.

"So, me and Steve, we must have said that to each other a million times about a million things. As we got older, though, we started saving it for serious stuff. After his mom died. When we were making graduation plans. After I…" Bucky braced himself. "After I kissed him for the first time."

Sam knew that "first time" implied there was at least one more time after that. Maybe more. But he said nothing.

"It was right before I left for training. We had said goodbye at the Stark Expo thing, but I needed to say it again to him. Just him. Not in front of our dates. So I went back to his place that night and I kissed him. I wasn't sure if I'd ever see him again, so I had to do it, you know? I loved him. I was in love with him. Had been for years. But that wasn't something that was okay with people back then. It sure shocked the hell out of Steve."

"Was he not okay with it, Bucky?" Sam wanted to smack himself for asking, but he had to know.

Bucky laughed. "Oh, no. He was perfectly fine with it. Turned out he was in love with me too. Spectacular timing for us to get that out in the open just hours before I shipped off to Wisconsin." He laughed again, only humorlessly this time. "So you know the rest. I left. Steve got jacked on super soldier serum. I got captured and experimented on. Steve rescued me and the other guys at Azzano. We marched back to camp and I was all 'Let's hear it for Captain America.' Blah blah blah. I'm standing there making heart eyes at Steve and this woman I don't know is making heart eyes at Steve and he's makin' heart eyes back at her. And suddenly I'm invisible or something."

"Bucky…"

"The night before the whole train fiasco where I everyone thought I died, I snuck into Steve's cabin. And it was weird because everything felt the exact same and completely different. I'm in there staring at this person who I know is my best friend, but he's also a complete stranger. There's wasn't really time to catch up, you know. So I kissed him again. And he kissed me. And then we… well, shit, Sam." This was the first time Sam ever saw Bucky blush. "And then I said it to him again right before I went back to my cabin. I said, 'I'm with you to the end of the line.' Because I was. My whole heart was his. My whole everything was his."

The room got quiet as Bucky looked out the window. The sun was just starting to set, causing some glare on the windows across the street.

Sam noticed Bucky's bottle was half empty. His was too, but there was a time to get drunk and hang out and there was a time to lean in and listen. This was the latter—as long as Bucky needed it to be—as far as Sam was concerned.

"I'm sorry, Sam," Bucky muttered, shaking his head. "I should not be unloading on you like this."

Sam put his hand up to stop Bucky's unnecessary (in his eyes) apology. "Hey, no, it's fine. I promise. You want to talk it out, let's talk it out. You want me to just listen some more, I will keep my mouth shut as long as you want."

Bucky couldn't help but chuckle. "You'd really keep your mouth shut as long as I want? Can I get that in writing?"

Sam laughed too. "You know what I mean, man."

"No, I do. I do," Bucky said. "And that means a lot. This all means a lot. My therapist would be so jealous right now. I barely tell her shit."

"Why, though? She's paid to help you process your past, Buck." Sam watched as Bucky flinched at Steve's nickname for his nickname. "And she actually wants to help. They got you the best doctor for you."

"But she didn't know Steve," Bucky said, shrugging away a sad half smile.

Sam exhaled and sank back into the couch. "And I do."

Bucky nodded slowly. "You do."

"But I didn't know any of what you just told me."

Sam watched as Bucky ran his metal fingers through his hair. They were a part of him as much as these stories he was sharing.

"Look, I'm sorry for outing Steve. Though, in my defense, I bet a million bucks he eventually would have told you he was bi." Sam raised his eyebrows and Bucky rolled his eyes. "And I'm telling you I'm bi now so you at least hear that from me and not some jilted ex down the road after I skip town."

"So you two were, like, official-official?"

Bucky dipped his head in shame. "No."

"But you do feel jilted?"

"Maybe." Bucky heaved a heavy sigh. "I should just quit while I'm behind, huh?" He hoisted himself off the couch and grabbed both his and Sam's partially empty bottles. "Thanks for all your help with the mattress. Please forget everything else I just said. You can do that yourself, right? I don't need to brainwash you or anything."

"Bucky, stop," Sam said as he got up and followed the other man into the kitchen. "Look, I get it, okay?" Bucky turned to Sam and glared at him. "Okay, so I don't get it, but your jokes aren't just jokes. I know that. And you know that. And you know that I know that. So just tell me what's going on in that cyborg brain of yours and I promise I will help you in any way that I can, even if that means never acknowledging we had this conversation to begin with. Okay?"

Sam held out his hand for Bucky to shake. Bucky stared at the offered hand, then up at Sam's face, then back at the hand. He didn't shake it, though.

"Fine," Bucky said roughly before whipping open a cupboard above the stove. "I'm making tea. You want some?"

"Tea?"

"It calms me down," Bucky said as he slammed the cupboard shut.

Sam noticed a kettle on the stove. "Huh. Um, sure, I'll have some. Thanks. I'm gonna use the bathroom real quick, okay?"

Bucky nodded and carried on in the kitchen while Sam ducked into the bathroom. He didn't know what to expect since Bucky seemed to be pretty minimalist in the main part of his apartment. There was no shower curtain, only a clear liner. Sam wondered if that was so Bucky could see the door while he was showering.

Everything was neat, if not basic. Dark green towels in various sizes were stacked on a little shelf with a bath sheet hanging over a rung, drying. Sam was pleased to see that Bucky did have a memory foam bath mat. It wasn't quite a luxury item, but it was something Sam knew wasn't around back when Bucky was growing up. Sam wouldn't say that Bucky had fully adapted to the 21st century, but he was taking to it a lot better than Steve had, especially technology. Sam wondered if that's because Bucky had been around for bits and pieces of the past 80 years, whereas Steve had missed all of it when he was frozen in the ice. Something to ask another day, perhaps.

When Sam came out of the bathroom, Bucky was back on the couch, two steaming mugs of tea on coasters (another recent purchase) on the coffee table. The super soldier's shoes were off. Sam toed his off in solidarity and put them next to the couch as he sat back down.

"Thanks for the tea," Sam said.

Bucky looked pensive as he pondered what to share next. "You remember when we met?"

"I remember when you ripped the steering wheel out of my car and then tried to kill me, Steve, and Nat. Is that when you're talking about?"

Bucky grimaced. "Sorry about that. I'm not sure if I ever actually apologized to you for that day."

Sam shook his head, not wanting Bucky to feel bad about something he had no control over at the time. "Water under the bridge, man. But is that right?"

Bucky nodded. "Yeah. So, right before you flew down and kicked me. Which, I forgive you for, by the way…"

"I am not sorry for that, but, please, continue."

"…Steve said my name and I remember asking 'Who the hell is Bucky?' before you knocked me flat on my ass," Bucky said. "And somehow me saying my own name out loud triggered something inside of me. And seeing Steve, for sure. But my name, you know. I hadn't heard it since the '40s. Any time they woke me up, they called me Soldier."

Sam nodded. It was weird hearing Bucky be almost blasé about his horrendous past.

"When they took me back to a holding area for a briefing, I asked who the man on the bridge was. They just said he was my mission, but I knew I knew him from somewhere. And they knew that. So they did a brain wipe on me to try and make me forget."

"Hold on," Sam winced, knowing he had to fess up about something. "I do need to apologize to you. After that fight, I told Steve that you might not be someone to save. That maybe you were someone we just needed to stop."

Bucky pursed his lips and nodded. "That's… you know, I probably would have told him the same thing. But I do feel a little less bad about ripping off your wing on the helicarrier."

"Okay." Sam nodded for Bucky to continue.

"Okay." Bucky sighed. "So, Steve and I were beating the shit out of each other. And I remember being pissed at him that he would not shut up. And I got so mad at myself for getting mad at him because I wasn't supposed to feel anything about my missions. I was just supposed to finish them, you know? But stupid Steve… telling me he's with me to the end of the line right before falling off the fucking airship thing. It was like a light switch or something went off inside of me. And, all of a sudden, like, bits of memories were coming back faster than I could make sense of any of them. But I knew this guy was important to me. I didn't really know how, but he was and I had to save him because that's just what had to happen according to all the clutter in my head. So I dragged his ass out of the river and made sure he was breathing and then left because that mission was over. I saved him. That was my mission. That was always my mission. Bucky's mission. Save Steve."

Sam grabbed his mug of tea and blew on it. "You ever tell him that?" Bucky shook his head and picked up his tea with his metal hand, cradling his human hand around it to absorb its warmth. "And then you disappeared for two years."

"Yep."

"Why?"

Bucky put his mug down, stood up, and started pacing the living room. Sam shouldn't have been surprised at how quiet Bucky was moving in his socks, but he was. Like a freaking ninja.

"Why do you think?" Bucky asked.

Sam said the first thing that came to him. "Because you were scared?"

"Ha. That was definitely part of it," Bucky muttered as he walked. "I had been brainwashed for decades, Sam, of course I was fucking scared. But I also wasn't me."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, now purposefully leading Bucky to further the conversation since Bucky was on a roll.

"I, mean, sure. I had my name back. I had a birthday. I thought I had some free will. But I also had 20-plus years of two arms, 10 fingers, and a best friend who I had just tried to murder behind me that I couldn't quite remember every single detail about. Not to mention all the people I killed for HYDRA, of which I could remember every goddamn thing about every goddamn mission."

Bucky stopped pacing. Back against the wall, he slid down onto the floor and buried his head in his arms.

"Okay, so you were dealing with some serious shit. I get that. You wanted to find yourself before coming back to Steve."

"Maybe," Bucky mumbled.

"He looked for you, Bucky. We looked for you."

"I know," Bucky said through a forced laugh. "But you were never going to find me."

"We did, though."

"Only 'cuz I was framed. If Zemo hadn't pulled that shit, I would have kept running from you guys."

"For how long?"

Bucky looked up at Sam and shrugged. "For as long as I needed to shake the code words." Sam nodded, remembering the specific string of words Zemo used in that red notebook to turn Bucky back into the subordinate Winter Soldier. "Why did you guys keep tracking me?"

"Oh, trust me, I was ready to stop at any time," Sam confessed. "But Steve would not give up."

Bucky frowned. "But you stayed?"

It was Sam's turn to shrug. "Captain America needed my help." Bucky glared at Sam for referring to Steve by his title. "The more time I spent with him, the more he was just Steve to me. And Steve missed you, Bucky. You. For two years, he told me about you stepping in when he got into fights. How you were there for each other when your folks died. How you were his family… I know how much my family means to me, so I wanted to help him get his back."

"Did he tell you about her?"

"If by 'her,' you mean Peggy, then yes. He told me about her."

"What'd he tell you?"

"Bucky…"

Bucky threw his hands up in defeat. "No, Sam, I want to know."

"It wasn't much, if that makes you feel any better."

"Sam."

"Fine," Sam said, exasperatedly. "He told me about meeting her at basic training and that she was the only person to treat him the same before and after he got the serum. They didn't really know each other all that long, but she was still alive when he got defrosted, so he would visit her. Sometimes she'd remember him. Sometimes she didn't. And then she died right around the time we found you. But that's it."

"Sam."

"I swear to god, Bucky, that's it."

Bucky exhaled angrily.

"So you found me in Bucharest. I didn't really like you a whole heck of a lot."

Sam chuckled. "Well, I didn't like you either."

"Still not sure if I like you."

"Come on, man, you love me."

"I tolerate you."

"You more than tolerate me, Mr. Robot. So what's next? We found you. Everyone fought Tony tried to kill you for killing his parents. But then you left Steve. Again."

Bucky nodded at Sam's abridged version of what happened in Europe. "I still wasn't me. And I didn't want to be around Steve unless I felt like I was me again. I knew the Winter Soldier was always going to be in there, but I needed to be sure that he wasn't going to be in the driver's seat ever again.

"So you went to Wakanda." Bucky nodded again. "Did you two, uh… have some alone time before you went to rehab?"

Bucky glared at Sam. "Rehab? That wasn't rehab, asshole."

"You know what I mean," Sam said quickly.

The two men stared at each other for what would have been an uncomfortable amount of time for literally anyone else.

"We didn't before," Bucky eventually said. "But we almost did the one time he came to visit me."

"Almost?"

Bucky nodded. "Shuri kind of walked in on us right before anything actually happened and then the moment… passes us by."

Sam looked at Bucky like he was actually crazy. "Did you just quote My Best Friend's Wedding at me?"

Bucky clenched his jaw. "Maybe."

"How do you know about that movie?" Bucky clenched his jaw again. "Ooooohhhh. Right. Because your best friend. Weddinged. Someone. Else. Got it. Sorry. So… how were things in Wakanda, really?" Sam gave an apologetic smile, hoping Bucky would keep going.

Bucky shrugged. "Fine. I spent most of my time with Shuri and the Dora Milaje. I'd train with them sometimes. Help out with farm chores and stuff."

"Did you hook up with any of the Dora Milaje?"

"No."

"Did Shuri get that Thank You card I sent about the new suit?"

"Yes."

"Great… So, you obviously got better there. Like, the brainwashing is completely gone now, right? Those code words don't work at all?"

Bucky scrubbed his right hand over his face. "Correct."

Sam was skeptical. He saw what Bucky did in Madripoor. "Just like that?"

"No, not 'just like that,' Sam," Bucky retorted. "We're talking invasive deprogramming and working with Ayo to make sure the word sequence wouldn't trigger anything anymore."

"How invasive?" Sam didn't mean to ask, but he was genuinely curious.

Bucky glared at Sam. "Shuri was basically digging around in my brain for weeks with her fancy schmancy tech."

That really got Sam's attention. "She did brain surgery on you?"

"Digital brain surgery? Is that a thing? She didn't crack my skull open or anything, but I was hooked up to all these machines that projected every neuron in my brain and she would just…" Bucky squinted and mimed pinching in the air.

Sam's eyes went wide. "Whoaaaaa. How did she know how to fix you?"

"Didn't ask." Bucky shrugged. "I trusted her, though. I mean, it took a few days to convince me to strap myself to a table for her to do it. But she's the smartest person I ever met and she treated me like a person instead of a lab rat. I didn't feel like I had other options. But with her, I didn't need any."

Sam nodded in appreciation. He was only in Wakanda for the fight against Thanos and hadn't gotten to spend any down time with any of the folks from there, but they all seemed like good people. Great warriors. Strong women.

"You really didn't get with anyone while you were there?"

"Oh my god, no!"

"But they call you White Wolf. Sounds to me like they know you know you. What about Ayo? She tracked you down in Latvia. She could have sent anyone, but she came herself."

"I didn't hookup with anyone, Sam."

"Man, why not?"

Bucky's response came quick. "Because I was too busy thinking about Steve."

Right. Steve. Always Steve.

Sam started to lay down on Bucky's couch, but thought better of it. "Are you coming back over here, or can I lay down?"

The sun had completely set, so the living room was dark-ish, but there was still plenty of light coming in from the kitchen.

Bucky waved Sam off and Sam laid all the way down, leaning on his side so he could still make eye contact. As far as couches go, it was pretty comfortable. Sam wondered if that was where he was going to end up that night. He had planned to drive down to DC that evening for a meeting he had there in a couple days, but if he had to stay in New York, that wasn't going to be the end of the world. He could always stay at a hotel if Bucky wasn't down with him just crashing there, even though Bucky had stayed with him at his sister's house a few times. This seemed like a quid pro quo opportunity, but that probably depended on how the rest of this conversation went.

"Okay. So…" Sam started. "Your brain was finally fixed. You got that nifty new arm. Me and Steve and everyone came to Wakanda to fight Thanos with T'Challa and his crew. I saw you guys smile and hug each other. Your hair was all long and shiny like a Disney princess. Did you guys talk at all before the fight? By yourselves, I mean?"

With a sad shake of his head, Bucky replied, "Nope. No time."

"And then we got blipped," Sam said.

"And then we got blipped," Bucky repeated.

Sam sighed. He hadn't really talked to anyone about being blipped except for his sister.

"Do you remember what it felt like?"

Bucky frowned and nodded. "Like I was a human cigarette and my body just turned to ash and floated away. It didn't hurt, but it didn't feel that great either. I watched my left arm just disappear and then I went with it. You?"

Sam nodded in agreement. "My legs went first. I tried to stand, but it all happened so fast. Sometimes when my leg falls asleep, I think it's happening again."

"That sucks," Bucky said.

Sam cracked a sad smile. "But at least we came back, right?"

Bucky huffed out a laugh that was anything but joyful.

The two men were quiet as the faint sound of honking and city noise came from outside.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Riddle me this." Bucky laid down on the floor and stared up at the ceiling. "Why would Steve spend five years trying to get us all unblipped, only to quantum jump or whatever himself to the past and have this whole other life without us as soon as we were all together again?"

Sam rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling too, knowing he didn't have an answer that satisfied Bucky. "I honestly don't know."

"I don't… hate him for wanting to live a full life after all that he had been through," Bucky said angrily. "But I'm so… mad at him for leaving like that."

Sam sighed and closed his eyes. Now knowing what he did about Steve and Bucky's past, it really didn't make any sense to him why Steve would go back in time and marry Peggy, who he spent all of a couple weeks with in the 40s, when he could have had a real future with Bucky, who he knew his entire life. Steve was a good person and an extremely capable leader, but he sure as shit wasn't the smartest person Sam ever met. His heart hurt for Bucky, but he wasn't sure if there was anything he could do to help.

"I wasn't at all surprised he wanted to step back from the job for a bit," Bucky said. "But I didn't think it'd be forever. I mean, Steve never liked when the attention was on him because it usually meant he mouthed off to someone and then they would beat him up in front of everybody. But I thought maybe I would be the reason for him taking some time off. That since I was finally right in the head—" Sam tried but failed to hold back a snort, which made Bucky get defensive. "Look, I didn't expect for us to just pick up where we left off from after Azzano because we were both different people. I knew that. But I thought we could at least be family again. Just be together however we could. Whether that was best friends or boyfriends or whatever."

"As long as you both shall live?" Sam asked quietly. Seriously.

"I mean, yeah. Maybe?" Bucky muttered. "You think I'm way outta line, don't you?"

Sam rolled over to face Bucky's general direction again. "The only thing I'm thinking right now is how I've never heard you talk this much in the entire time I've known you. So I know this is really eating away at you."

Bucky turned his head toward Sam. "But you think I'm blowing this out of proportion, right? That the amount of pissed off I am right now at Steve and myself is too much."

"Hold on," Sam said as he sat up and really looked at Bucky. The super soldier was now fully facing Sam, but had curled up and was picking at his metal hand. He looked as vulnerable as he sounded upset. "Why are you mad at yourself?"

"Because I didn't do enough, okay? I wasn't enough?"

"Enough?"

"For Steve, Sam. God. Keep up." Bucky quickly sat up against the wall and hugged his knees. "I mean, I must have taken too long to get better. Or, or, or maybe he realized he wasn't into me like that and it was easier to get on with his life without me in the picture. That I was somehow holding him back all along."

"Bucky," Sam said softly as he got up and crossed the room. He slid down the wall and sat next to Bucky, leaving enough room between them so Bucky wouldn't feel trapped in any way. "I don't know why Steve what he did. But I do know that none of it was your fault." Bucky glared at Sam. "Steve had a Bucky-sized hole in his heart after you fell off that train, man. And once we found out you were still alive, he did everything he could to make sure you were okay. Okay? That was his mission. And maybe after the whole Thanos thing… maybe once we got back from the blip… and he knew you were really okay… maybe he felt like his mission was over."

Tears were rolling down Bucky's cheeks, but he didn't even bother wiping them away. They dripped onto his shirt and soaked into the fabric on impact.

"But what about the end of the line, Sam?"

Sam sighed. "I don't know."

Bucky scowled and the two of them sat in silence for a while.

"You dated anyone since moving back to New York?"

"Not really," Bucky said with a shrug.

"Because of Steve?"

Bucky shook his head. "No. I'm not over him, which is on me, and I might never be. But I'm not using that as an excuse not to meet people."

Sam chuckled. "So what is your excuse for not meeting people?"

"Have you been on these apps?!" Bucky yanked his phone out of his pocket and opened Tindr. "Half these people either have no profile or their profiles are riddled with grammatical errors. And then there's guys posing with tigers? Who does that?"

"You wanna pose with a Falcon? That'll attract the ladies. And gentlemen, I'm assuming. My ass looks great in my new suit."

"Gross." Bucky smacked Sam on the arm. "Plus… you're not Bird Boy anymore anyway."

Sam smiled. "No, I guess not. Still getting used to the stars and stripes."

"They look good on you," Bucky said with a teasing smile.

"How good?" Sam asked as his smile tugged into a grin, glad Bucky was lightening up a little.

"Eh, 4 out of 10."

"WHAT?" Sam yelled.

They both laughed.

"I'll tell you what," Bucky offered. "I was going to take this to my grave, but since you've listened to me yak all night, I will tell you something else that will not leave this room or I swear to god I will kill you myself."

"Okay…" Sam said, curious as to where Bucky was going with this.

"There was a moment—one fleeting moment—when I had the most microscopic twinge of a crush on you."

Sam's eyes widened with glee and he rocked in place. "Oooooooooo yes. YES! This is the greatest moment of my life. The ice cold Winter Soldier had the hots for me. Yes! When?"

Bucky shook his head and smiled. "When you were putting those Senators in their place after Karli died. Because I know you meant every word you said." Sam stopped goofing around, remembering how he went off on them—calmly, of course—for the whole world to see. "You're so full of shit most of the time, but I was so proud to walk next to you after that. You really are the Captain America we need right now. Especially me."

Sam's instinct was to make a joke, but instead he reached over and hugged Bucky. The man with the metal arm froze at first, but then wrapped his arms around his friend. Because, like it or not, Sam was his friend. Maybe even family.

"Why are all your t-shirts too small for a grown-ass man to wear?" Sam walked into Bucky's bedroom wearing borrowed pajamas. At least the sweatpants were stretchy at the waist, but the black shirt he was wearing was clinging to him like the layer he wore under his Avenger suit.

Bucky laughed as he stretched a fitted dark gray sheet over his new mattress. The bed didn't have a box spring because Bucky wasn't ready for an actual bed-bed yet. But the mattress was a compromise he made with his therapist. Wait 'til she hears he had an actual guest over to his apartment. She'll lose her friggin' mind.

"They fit me just fine," Bucky said. "Maybe skip arm day next time."

"Says the man with super strength," Sam said as he helped Bucky with the sheet. "Us unenhanced folks can't skip arm day. Or leg day."

"Awwwwww, must be so awful to not have been experimented on by Nazis."

"I'm glad you can joke about that," Sam said. "Shows growth."

"You're a growth," Bucky muttered as he spread a matching top sheet over the fitted sheet.

"Man, you are such a child," Sam replied, grabbing a black duvet off of a chair in Bucky's room.

"I am 106-years-old, Wilson. Respect your goddamn elders," Bucky said as he pointed sternly at Sam. They both laughed.

"Thank you, Sergeant Barnes, for letting me spend the night. I can just crash on the couch, though," Sam said as he jerked a thumb in the direction of the other room.

Bucky shook his head. "No, man. This bed is huge. And I'll probably end up on the floor in less than an hour anyway, so you'll have the whole thing to yourself."

"Suit yourself," Sam said as he slid under the blanket. "Oooooo, this feels good. Maybe I should get a new mattress." Sam bounced the mattress underneath him, testing the firmness. "If you do end up staying, I like to be the little spoon."

Bucky laughed as he turned off the light. "I'm not going to spoon you."

"You want me to spoon you?" Sam asked as Bucky climbed into bed. "Platonic coworkers can do that, you know. It is the 2020s."

"I'm good," Bucky replied. "But thanks."

"Anytime, man," Sam said with a yawn as he rolled away from Bucky.

After a few minutes, Bucky said quietly into the dark, "And thanks for your help with the mattress today. And for letting me vent. I really appreciate it."

"Anytime, man," a sleepy Sam muttered.

"So can I ask your sister out?" Sam kicked Bucky hard under the blanket. "Ow, shit! Leg day is really paying off."

"Good night, Bucky."

"G'night, Sam."