ain't no sunshine (when you're gone)
After Steve leaves, the months are a grey-blue blur.
Thanos has been defeated, but without the leadership of Tony Stark, the Avengers disband and go their separate ways- not that Bucky feels a particular kinship to any of them. At the funeral, he does show up, nods at everyone, and takes a seat at the back. The Falcon is the only one who seeks him out and forces him to save his number on a flip phone. He, and that Spider kid who seems to be made out of perpetual enthusiasm, caffeine, and an inability to anticipate when to shut up. The kid grills him on the inner workings of his vibranium arm until a pitying Banner has the bright idea to set him up on a video call with Shuri.
Bucky gets an apartment in New York, and soon, letters arrive for his mandatory attendance at the court hearings. He suffers through them- a lawyer does most of the talking, and some Avengers show up to testify (he notices the Falcon)- and after a few tedious sessions, receives an official pardon and a subscription to therapy.
Dr. Raynor isn't fun at all, but Bucky supposes that it could've been way worse.
The apartment has the barebones of a kitchen and no furnishings. Bucky gets a sofa, a flat-screen TV, and a table from a thrift store before he realizes décor isn't really his forte. On most nights, he falls asleep on the cold, wooden floor- the way he did with Steve a lifetime ago. But then he wakes up sweating, in the middle of the night, from a nightmare where the Winter Soldier is on a murderous rampage, and there is no Steve to hold him close and no light except for the television and only the familiar wrenching stab of loneliness, again and again, and again.
But Steve has left him his blue notebook, and Bucky makes a list of his own that he calls "Amends". His therapist approves, and it gives him an excuse to leave the room and terrify the living wits out of certain people. Bucky pretends to enjoy it.
(No, he doesn't. Not really.)
So, for recreation, Dr. Raynor suggests that he date. He downloads Tinder, lies about his age, takes a selfie, and swipes right on men and women, while texts from Sam go unanswered.
Online dating is far more traumatizing than he suspected, and by the time the tiger photos turn up, he's given up all hope. He uninstalls the app with no regrets and sets up a GoodReads profile instead and sends Shuri and Ayo friend requests.
Shuri accepts and sends a listicle of science fiction books that Bucky slowly makes his way through, with delight and dedication. After ninety years of fighting in other people's wars, it does feel nice to go back to reading about fictional skirmishes in strange lands.
Dr. Raynor tells him that he needs to trust people, go out more often and get a new hobby or a pet. His life needs structure, she insists, handing him an empty planner with a Hello Kitty doodle on the cover. Bucky never uses it, although he does consider adopting a cat and fixes lunch dates with his Japanese neighbor every Wednesday.
His therapist approves again, blissfully unaware of Bucky's real reason for regularly meeting with Nakajima. She thinks it's just the sushi.
If Nakajima finds it weird that his weekly lunch partner often hangs about outside his door like the average creep who cannot take no for an answer, he doesn't show it. He invites Bucky in several times, but he declines. Nakajima sighs, with the sad face of an old man pondering over greater mysteries that remain unsolved in his heart, while the guilt builds up within Bucky like magma threatening to erupt.
It almost bursts through when Bucky sees John Walker on television. Luckily, there isn't much furniture to smash, so he balls up his fists and creates a dent in the wall.
That's how he comes to find out that the Falcon has given up the shield- the very shield that his best friend Steve entrusted him with- and that it is now in the hands of a decorated ex-military veteran presumptuous enough to fill Steve's shoes.
He flips his phone open, and speed-reads through the texts he'd ignored earlier.
Hey, it's Sam. We exchanged numbers at the funeral. How are you?
[Delivered, 6 months ago]
They called me for the hearing tomorrow. Don't worry, I got your back.
[Delivered, 5 months ago]
Phew! That went well, don't you think? Congrats on the pardon, I hope the therapy helps.
[Delivered, 5 months ago]
Listen, Bucky. There's something I want to talk to you about. Regarding Steve and the shield.
[Delivered, 4 months ago]
Hey, I'm sorry if I sounded selfish in the last message. I know Steve's departure hasn't been easy for any of us, but especially you. Are you alright? If you need help, want to talk, or anything, I'm here.
[Delivered, 4 months ago]
Bucky, is everything okay? Did you change your phone number?
[Delivered, 2 months ago]
I've decided that I am going to give up the shield.
[Delivered, 1 month ago]
I've done it. The museum will take care of it. Although, sometimes I keep having second thoughts.
[Delivered, 20 days ago]
Bucky bites his lower lips. He should've replied- he owed it to the Falcon- but he hadn't. He hadn't even gone through the messages properly. The Falcon had made the effort to keep him updated, to ask for his opinion- yet he'd, to borrow a term he learned in online dating, "ghosted" him.
Bucky's blood is boiling- with anger, guilt, and frustration. It is Sam's choice of course, but Bucky cannot help feeling a little betrayed.
Sam had no right to give up that shield.
It was the only thing of Steve's that either of them had left. And now some utter nincompoop is on Good Morning America talking about his "personal connect" to Steve Rogers.
With trembling fingers, Bucky tries to compose a message:
I'm sorry for not responding earlier, but you shouldn't have given up that shield. Steve trusted you with it. Now look at what you've done.
He's about to hit send when he changes his mind. It isn't Wednesday yet, but he gets out of the house, forgetting to turn the TV off.
Shouldn't have given up the shield.
Good to see you too, Buck.
There are a million things Bucky could tell the Falcon when they finally meet, after over six months, but there isn't time for any of it.
Before he knows it, he's on a plane with Sam, to Europe of all places, to track down a bunch of mysterious terrorists and he is telling Sam off for calling him "Buck". He has to admit, albeit begrudgingly that the Falcon has the power to draw you in. Or, that it feels strangely good to be back on the chase again.
He feels more alive than he has, in months.
He remembers the man now properly, from the funeral when he'd come up and put a reassuring hand on his metal shoulder. He'd sat at the back with him too and cracked a few jokes. Before leaving, he'd told him to "take care" with a small, meaningful smile.
At the hearing, the Falcon's keen eyes had sought him out. Bucky had met his gaze, but afterward, he'd left early to sign off all the lengthy paperwork. He'd wanted to convey his thanks, but he hadn't got the chance.
And now they were bickering and fighting alongside as if the months of long silence had suddenly evaporated, and they were on the run again, except now, a Steve-shaped hole stood between them. Along with that infuriating metal bird zip-zapping around, of course- but Bucky knows that while Sam may forgive him for ignoring his texts, he's better off not taking any chances with Redwing.
Fortunately, the Flag Smashers get there first, and Sam's look of pain makes Bucky feel almost ashamed of his thoughts.
Almost.
It is a soft golden afternoon and they're rolling in a field of yellow flowers, uncomfortably wrapped around each other, but unwilling to let the other go, first. They've met Walker by now, and he's every bit of an entitled idiot that Bucky had taken him for when he saw him on TV and most of his mind is still seething from the encounter.
Yet, a small part of him is miffed when Sam brusquely brushes him off onto the dewy grass.
There must be a word for the feeling in Bucky's chest when they get off the truck and walk down the empty road, talking about Karli, Super Soldiers, and the ridiculousness of Battlestar as a superhero moniker.
But Bucky doesn't know what that word is, yet.
Sam, Bucky learns is pretty affable and companionable, while Bucky is the sour and brooding one. But Sam doesn't mind the slightest. Bucky can't remember a time since they joined arms with the Avengers where Sam had been put off by him. Instead, Sam tells him pleasantly about Louisiana, his sister and cousins, the sea, and a boat he's been meaning to fix.
Bucky tells Sam that he has nightmares.
"Isn't the therapy working?", Sam asks, eyes glowing with concern.
Bucky shrugs.
He slowly untangles the feeling in his chest, realizing that he's missed Sam a good deal.
In fact, he's been missing Sam for months, and he has no clue when he's stopped referring to Sam as The Falcon, inside his head.
The meeting with Isaiah Bradley goes downhill fast. Then there's the altercation with the cops and Sam is now stuck in therapy with him, their knees and thighs pressed against the other.
Too close, Bucky thinks angrily, glaring daggers at Sam for putting him in such a position. Sam, who can be infuriating and endearing, and Bucky has trouble telling apart which is which since anger always clouds his judgment.
So he lets out the thoughts sitting close to his chest for too long. Thoughts, he isn't proud of and he's sure, strike arrow-like at Sam's generous heart.
He gave you that shield, and you threw it away like it was nothing…So maybe he was wrong about you. And if he was wrong about you, then he was wrong about me.
Sam's expression falls, and Bucky braces himself as target practice. It surprises him at how much it hurts, but he can hide it well.
And when we're done, we both can go on separate, long vacations and never see each other again.
It's a real miracle when in the end, they still decide to work together on the case and then go their separate ways.
I like that.
No, he doesn't.
The very thought fills Bucky with dread, but he's too proud to show it. And he can feel the effects of therapy working off him. He realizes as they leave the room that he hadn't been angry with Sam so much as he is insecure about what Steve thought of him.
Steve was probably the only reason Bucky can bring himself to believe that he isn't the Winter Soldier anymore, but if Steve could be wrong…then it meant his nightmares are real, and he is truly beyond any redemption.
Dr. Raynor would call it projecting but Dr. Raynor can shut the fuck up when it's Nakajima's aged face that keeps swimming up, like a body that refuses to drown, along with Leah's words from that failed date.
You know how you call a guy whose wife died a widower? Or, if your parents die, you're an orphan. You know, there's no word for someone whose kids die.
Because it's the worst thing that could happen.
Words in Russian run across his mind, that despite all that time in Wakanda, still give him the shivers.
Longing. Daybreak. Benign. Rusted. Homecoming…
And then, from the shadows and gunfire smoke, a prisoner's face.
Bucky's breath catches, but he is suddenly struck with an idea.
He throws a sideways glance at Sam, Sam who is walking at pace with him and is very business-minded after that uncomfortably intimate interaction and the outburst that followed. Bucky hopes that Sam hasn't meant all those things he said because Bucky hasn't either, but he can't know for sure, yet.
He supposes he'll have to stick around to find out. Or hell, maybe change Sam's mind by helping him on the case. And bash John Walker, for some mutual catharsis.
He's certain neither Sam nor his therapist will approve breaking a criminal out of prison, but if they're going to be traipsing across Europe, they might as well make the most of it. Granted it isn't the best idea, and who knows what tricks Zemo may have up his sleeve. After all, what if he brought the Winter Soldier back?
No. Not again.
There's a familiar ache and fear in Bucky's chest, but it's the only lead they have to outsmart the new Captain America. And even if Sam disagrees, Bucky's certain that the Falcon deep in his heart, for all his principles, would choose Zemo over Walker any day.
Okay, maybe he isn't completely certain, but he's willing to take that risk.
Bucky knows there's a word for what he feels when he's around Sam, but he can't recall it right away and he isn't keen to, since it sure as hell feels more fun than ticking off items in Steve's old blue notebook.
A/N:
Been having a rough week, so I'd appreciate all the reviews/comments/feedback. I'm also perpetually on Tumblr as ladyofthelake666, so feel free to say hi, since I love to talk.