(Author's Note - 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!)

"Not that I care… but how come I wasn't on your list?"

Bucky stopped working on the boat and looked up at Sam, eyebrows furrowed. "Now, see, since you started that question with 'not that I care,' it means that you do, in fact, care very much."

Sam couldn't even make an excuse to back out of that one. Bucky was right—he did care. And while a bigger part of him felt bad for being mildly peeved that he wasn't part of Bucky's apology tour, a small part of him remembered very vividly that the Winter Soldier tried to kill him multiple times and destroyed a rental care that was under his name, not to mention the Falcon wings he tore up.

Yes, they were friends now. And, yes, Sam knew that it wasn't Bucky who did those things. But if Bucky was going to apologize to everyone else, then why couldn't he at least include Sam as part of that larger group?

"That list was bullshit, Sam. Except for Yori, pretty much everyone else on there was someone that I was literally obligated to apologize to as part of my pardon requirements."

Well, that was news to Sam. He had seen Bucky's list in Steve's old notebook. It was pages long and spanned decades. He wondered why Bucky hadn't told him that before, though he wasn't surprised. Bucky was pretty closed off about a lot of things, though every now and then Sam could get him to talk if he made him mad because when Bucky talked about anything serious or feelings-related, it was only in short bursts.

(Sam knew this could be one of those times, so he went all-in on the provocation to see if Bucky would open up.)

"Oh, I see. You weren't 'obligated' to say you're sorry to me?"

Bucky squeezed the wrench he was using in his metal hand. He stopped when he felt it buckle a bit. "Obligated? No. Am I sorry for what I did to you? Sure. But you fishing for an apology and me telling you I'm sorry isn't going to make you any less mad. It sure as shit isn't going to make me feel less bad about what I did." Bucky frowned. "And, as I recall, you shot at me."

"You were working for the bad guys then," Sam pointed out.

"So were you," Bucky countered. "At least that's what I was told. You know… as part of my mission. When I was brainwashed."

The two men stared at each other. (Well, Bucky was glaring, really.) Sam knew he should apologize, but gave Bucky a few extra seconds to say more if he wanted to.

"I'm sorry," Sam finally said quietly after a minute. "I know you wouldn't have done any of what you did if you were of sound mind all those years."

"I don't know," Bucky said slowly. "I might have still ripped your wings off. Someone needed to knock you down a peg and it sure wouldn't have been Steve."

"Hey, I wasn't even an Avenger yet," Sam said with a smirk.

"And now you're pretty much the face of the Avengers, pal, so it all seemed to work out for you anyway," Bucky said as he put his head back down and made it look like he was still loosening some bolts (when in reality, he had already loosened all of them).

Sam went to work on loosening some bolts too, but was having trouble with a couple of them. He couldn't ask Bucky for help, though. Not right then.

"Did he ask you?" Sam asked, going for nonchalant, but failing spectacularly.

Bucky didn't even look up. "Did who ask me what, Samuel?"

Sam stopped what he was doing and looked over at Bucky. "Did Steve ask you if you wanted the shield?"

With a sigh, Bucky looked up at Sam. "No."

"No, he didn't? Or no you're not going to tell me?"

Bucky shrugged, "Does it matter?"

"Does it matter if he didn't ask you? Or does it matter if you don't tell me?"

"Jesus Christ, Sam. No he didn't ask me if I wanted the shield. But he did ask me if I was okay with him giving it to you. Is that what you wanted to know? If I was jealous that you're Captain America and I'm still…" Bucky clenched his jaw.

"White Panther?" Sam suggested.

"White. Wolf. You asshole," Bucky muttered. "No, the Winter Soldier. I'm still the Winter Soldier."

"Are you though?"

Bucky threw his hands up. "I don't know? Maybe? Half the news segments call me the Winter Soldier, but the other half calls me Sergeant Barnes, which is fine, because at least that's my name. But…"

"But you just want everyone to call you a cool super hero name?" Sam asked.

"NO," Bucky said angrily. "Do you want to have a serious conversation about this or do you want to keep pissing me off? Your wings are in the house, and I could break any bone in your body before you could get Redwing here, so answer carefully."

Sam put his wrench down and put his hands up, backing away from the bolts. He leaned against the ladder that lead to the deck of the boat, putting his back toward the only entrance to where they were working. It was a way for Sam to prevent anyone from getting down into the boat without going through him first and so Bucky could keep eyes on exit. They both knew no one would actually try to attack them while they worked on the boat, but it was habit for them at this point.

"It's… exhausting, Sam," Bucky said. "You're exhausting. Being expected to fight all the time is exhausting. Having to be what other people want me to be is exhausting. I just need a break or something. At least when I was a HYDRA puppet they let me nap for a few years at a time before they'd trot me out to shoot somebody."

Though thick with sarcasm, Sam understood was Bucky getting at. He waited to see if Bucky would continue.

(He did.)

Bucky sighed through his nose and clenched his jaw. "I wasn't the only Winter Soldier, but at the same time, I'm the Winter Soldier. I'm the only one left, so I had to make amends for everything I did. We did." He ran his metal hand through his hair. "Did you know I was the only one from the original group of test subjects who didn't die on the table?" He nodded to himself. "And I was the last one to be tested on against their will. The rest of them signed up for it. They chose to be turned into weapons."

"Is that how you see yourself?" Sam asked quietly. "As a weapon?"

Bucky shrugged and chewed on his lower lip. "I literally threatened to break your bones a few minutes ago. And you saw what Zemo had me do in Madripoor."

Sam frowned. "I probably shouldn't keep calling you a robot. Or a cyborg. I'm sorry."

"You calling me that is not the root cause of why I'm mad," Bucky said as he rolled his eyes. "So, you can keep your apology and save it for something that actually matters."

"Fine," Sam said, huffing out a small laugh. "But, for the record, even though I call you names, I see you as a person. And I think you see yourself that way too. Shit, the other week you told me you don't think to use the metal arm first since you're right handed. You've restored your operating system, man. You're default setting is back to Bucky Barnes."

"But who even is that anymore?" Bucky threw his hands up in the universal what the heck motion.

"That's up to you," Sam said.

"Is it, though? Everything I do is under scrutiny from the federal government. It's like I'm in the goddamn Truman Show." Sam raised his eyebrows at the reference. "What? Scott gave me a list of movies to watch. Steve wasn't the only one who needed to catch up."

"I'm gonna need to add some stuff to that list so you're not just watching a bunch of white boy movies."

"Shuri gave me a list too. So did Ayo, T'Challa, and Clint. His is mostly martial arts movies and westerns, though."

Sam nodded. "Okay, okay. The Wakandans probably have some good recs, but I'm still gonna make you a list."

"Fine, whatever," Bucky said, putting an end to Sam's tangent. "What I was saying is that I'm basically property of the U.S. government and," he gestured toward Sam, "still Captain America's sidekick. I got drafted in the '40s, Sam. I thought I'd either die in the war or eventually get out and have a normal life. Maybe have a family. Turns out you can die and live forever. But I don't get a normal life. I don't get to have a family. I don't even have Steve anymore." Bucky had a pained look in his eyes like he had more to say, but physically couldn't.

"Should we ask to get you discharged somehow?" Sam wondered if they could talk to Rhodey about it. He'd been such a huge help with getting the Isaiah Bradley statue installed, maybe he knew someone who could get Bucky out of whatever government contract he was under. Bucky's pardon shouldn't be a life sentence to keep serving against his will after he had already served, in some capacity, for nine decades that way. Cut the guy some slack. Even if Bucky couldn't have the life he hoped for before the war, he should get to have a life that's his now.

"And what would I do, Sam? Out in the real world." Bucky shook his head. "The only skills I have revolve around fighting or murder."

"You could do consulting work?" Sam suggested. "Or you could do literally anything you want! You pick stuff up fast. I've seen you with your iPhone. You know how to use that thing better than me and I don't think that's because of any super serum."

Tech had always come easy to Bucky. Same with math and anything science-related. He knew he was smart, but he didn't have the education or work experience for anything other than using weapons and doing hand-to-hand combat.

"I don't mind working with you," Bucky admitted. "I'm good at what I do and I'm trying to live with that. I just want to fight the fights I believe in and not be sent out to destroy someone or something because someone else is on a power trip."

Sam nodded. He felt the same way. His time in Afghanistan was more than enough to make him see that the United States still had a long way to go with diplomacy and care for its own troops. Witnessing firsthand the loss of colleagues and friends, and then the lack of care for those who did make it home, Sam had gone into Veterans Affairs to try and make things better for those who had served. But when Captain America needed his help, he suited up again. Though never in a million years did he think he would be the one to carry the shield for the country who had let him and so many others down for hundreds of years. But it was the only way Sam could think to, like Bucky said, fight the fights he believed in. Help be in charge of the agenda for once, instead of taking someone else's orders.

"I understand," Sam said. "And you are right… you work with me. Not for me. Not under me. With me. You're not Captain America's sidekick, Bucky. This is me and you. Equal partners. I got the shield. You got your arm. Look… I know we haven't quite mastered the whole listening to each other thing, but I do trust you."

Flustered, Bucky looked at the floor. "I trust you too."

Sam smiled. "But you can't say it to my face?"

The super soldier looked up and cocked his head. "I trust you too." He clenched his jaw. "Even though you're an asshole."

With a wide grin, Sam detached himself from the ladder and picked up his wrench, pointing it toward Bucky as he spoke. "You're a grouchy old man, you know that?"

Bucky rolled his eyes and nodded toward Sam's side of the section of the boat they were working on. "You need help with those bolts? I noticed you were having trouble with them. Probably because you don't have a metal arm or super strength. Any strength, really. You're pretty weak. Guess that's why Steve left you the shield since it's so lightweight."

Sam tried hard not to laugh, but couldn't help it. "Fine. Yes, I need help. But only because these bolts are as rusty as you."

"Vibranium doesn't rust, Sam," Bucky said as he walked over to help Sam, made quick work of loosening the previously stuck bolts, and then climbed up the ladder.

Bucky had hopped off the boat and had already started walking down the dock by time Sam got up to the deck.

Sam dismounted the boat with a little more effort than Bucky and then jogged after his friend to catch up.

"Po' boys and beers at the bar? My treat." Sam said.

Bucky laughed. "You don't have to pity-buy me dinner because I got upset."

Sam scoffed. "It's not a pity-dinner. It's for all your help with the boat," Sam pointed out. "In our family, we say thank you by feeding people. How do you not know that by now? You've been here for weeks, so you're basically a Wilson at this point. I think my sister likes you more than she likes me."

Bucky bit back a smile. "You know, as annoying as you are, you're a good man." He clapped Sam on the shoulder.

Sam's eyebrows slid up. "Wow, that was almost a compliment." He chuckled. "You know what… I'll take it."

Bucky gestured to the empty boardwalk in front and around them. "Notice I told you that while no one else is around. No witnesses means it never happened." Bucky tapped the side of his head.

"Don't worry," Sam said, "I'm gonna remind you at least once a week that you said something nice-ish to me. That more than makes up for me not being on your list."

"If you mention that list one more time, I swear to god, I'm going to put all those bolts back on your boat." Bucky elbowed Sam in the side and then took off running.

As he easily stayed ahead of Sam, Bucky thought to himself that maybe this was his normal now. Maybe he did have family. Maybe things were going to be okay.