Sam had family in Indianapolis. He hadn't seen them in a long time, not since before he went on the run with Steve, Wanda, and Natasha. He figured it was time to pay his aunt and uncle a visit for a few days. He also scheduled a few events, breaking ground on a new pharmaceutical production line and lobbying landowners to lower rents to increase affordable housing options. And if he took a detour for an afternoon to a town less than forty miles away, well, nobody would care.

Shelbyville, Indiana. Home to rivers and manufacturing plants and food production and farmers markets. Population of just over twenty thousand people, including one Bucky Barnes.

Bucky had told Sam to meet him at one of the city's many parks. Sam found him watching dogs run around an enclosed off-leash dog park. He observed Bucky from a distance. He looked healthy, if thin for a super soldier. There was an ease to his stance, relaxed shoulders with his back to the pathway. No obvious weapons, although Sam had no doubt Bucky was armed, but there was nothing about him that would attract unwanted attention. If Sam hadn't been looking for him, his eyes would have likely passed right over him.

"Hey, Barnes."

"Wilson." Bucky tilted his head towards a nearby park bench, located on a green riverbank.

Once seated next to Bucky, Sam could see the see the dark shadows under his eyes and the deep sadness etched in his face. Sam flashed back to seeing Bucky in Wakanda, greeting Steve. Even through his deep suspicions about Bucky's recovery and motivations, Sam realized Bucky had been truly happy to see Steve. And it was the happiest Steve had ever been in Sam's presence. All to go so wrong just hours later.

"So… Shelbyville?"

"Ancestral home of the Barnes."

"Hiding in plain sight?"

"Everybody looks like a Barnes in this town."

"Must be one ugly-ass town."

Bucky smirked. "You'd fit right in."

"You in contact with your family?"

Instead of answering directly, Bucky indicated a grey stone block on the far shore of the river "See that? It was the base of a statue of World War II hero James Buchanan Barnes, who died valiantly in the line of duty while fighting alongside his brother-in-arms and best friend, Captain America." He paused, shame in his eyes. "They tore it down when it was discovered I was the Winter Soldier. I don't think there is a single photo of me in this town anymore. Certainly nobody who would be proud to claim me as family."

"I'm so sorry."

Bucky waved his hand dismissively and changed the subject. "Who do you have on your team, Cap?"

Sam could hear Fury's litany of problems in his head. He leaned back on the bench and sighed. "We are kind of understaffed right now. Rhodey is based out of DC, trying to keep the politicians from freaking out about losing the Avengers. Banner is focusing on the tech. Wanda is keeping to herself. We are trying to let Parker have a normal life, but that isn't going too well as you've probably seen on the news."

"That poor kid." Bucky interrupted. "Is he okay?"

"So far, we've kept him and his aunt safe. They're at Stark Industries, so the security around them is good."

This answer seemed to satisfy Bucky, so Sam continued. "Strange sets his own terms. Lang is still very new at this, and so is Van Dyne. T'Challa has a country to lead. I have no idea where Thor or Danvers are. Most of the time, it's just me, with Fury and Hill desperately calling for backup." He turned his head with a hopeful expression on his face. "We would benefit from having you around."

"Look, I will help you, if you want. I can train new recruits. I can lead ops, plan strategy. I can rebuild the Compound with my bare hands. But please, don't ask me to fight."

"I won't."

"I mean, if it is Thanos-level shit, I'll have your back, guns blazing and knives out. But anything else…"

"I understand."

"I can't. I can't fight anymore." Bucky flexed his vibranium hand over and over again. "I can't."

Sam rested his hand upon Bucky's, stilling it. "I got it, man. I won't ask you to fight."

Bucky looked down, startled by Sam's consoling touch. He exhaled deeply and nodded his thanks.

Sam remembered Steve's stories about this man. How gentle and loving he was with his family. How he never started any fights, but ended Steve's for him. How disappointed he was when Steve arrived in Europe to witness bloodshed Bucky had never wanted him to see.

"I also know you're still recovering from…" Sam didn't really know how to end that sentence. Decades of brainwashing? Losing yet another five years of your life? Being abandoned by your best friend? He settled for waving his hand towards the dissembled monument across the river. "I'll give you as much time as you need."

Bucky favored Sam with a small, satisfied smile. "Thank you."

Sam stretched his legs out in front of him, hoping he looked like any one else out to enjoy the park. "So, been here long? What do you do here in Shelbyville?"

"I move around a lot, with Shelbyville just being a place I return to from time to time. My routine is pretty much the same everywhere. I walk dogs at the local shelter. Been taking on some construction jobs here and there, since so much needs to be rebuilt. I bring meals to the elderly." He seemed pleased and embarrassed as he said, "They like it because I get some of their old references."

"That's good." Sam grimaced a bit. "You might actually be more productive than I have been."

"Gotta make up for my sins somehow." Bucky shrugged. "Having a hard time settling in as Captain America?"

If anyone could understand what the transition was like, it would be the man sitting next to him. Sam thought for a moment before he responded. "It isn't so much being Cap that's rough. It's not having the options to do what I want the way I want. Nothing big has come up yet, but I'm terrified of needing to deal with something large scale without a full team behind me. And I'm spending more time in meetings than getting hands-on in the recovery effort, and it's frustrating the hell out of me."

Bucky nodded in understanding. "Sorry about that. I bet a lot of those meetings have been about me?"

Sam smirked at him. "Gonna stay here for awhile?"

"Are they gonna send people after me?"

"Nah."

"Then I'll stay here awhile this time."

Sam raised an eyebrow at Bucky. "I keep getting messages from the royal family of Wakanda, demanding your return."

"Has the US government looked for me there yet?"

"Yep. And they are satisfied you aren't hiding out there."

"Good. I'll give it another few months or so before going back to visit." Bucky looked sheepishly at Sam. "I had built a life there. It was a good one. It gave me hope I had a future."

"Then why haven't you gone back?"

"I showed up to Tony Stark's funeral." When Sam looked confused, Bucky continued. "You might have noticed officials there who aren't my biggest fans. Pepper Potts made them all sign agreements they wouldn't arrest me that day and they wouldn't disclose I was there." Admiration filled his tone. "Seriously, before her own husband's funeral, she does this. That woman is amazing."

"Yes, she is."

"But, anyway, they saw me talking to Shuri and Okoye. They know I was at the battle in Wakanda. I'm sure they figured it out. The people of Wakanda have been so wonderful to me, so much better than I deserve. I didn't want to bring another battle, diplomatic or not, down upon them."

"That the only reason you haven't gone back?"

Bucky wrapped his arms protectively around his middle. "There are some memories I don't want to face."

The elephant in the room suddenly loomed quite large. Surprisingly, Bucky was the first one to acknowledge it. "So, how is he?"

Sam didn't need to ask who he meant. "He says he misses you."

"Does he know you're here?"

"No, nobody does."

"Does he know where I am."

"No."

A look of sad relief flitted across Bucky's face. "Thank you."

In return, Sam asked a question he'd wanted to for weeks now. "Did you know he was going to pass the shield to me?"

Bucky spent a moment lost in his memories. "We'd talked about it a few times, when he'd visit me in Wakanda. He seemed a bit envious of my quiet life. He was thinking of retiring."

"Wow."

"Told him you'd be better at it than he ever was, because if you ever threw yourself out of a plane, at least you could fly."

"Bet he appreciated that."

"He was always a punk." Bucky's face twisted in sorrow.

For awhile, Sam and Bucky sat in silence. Without the distraction of conversation, Sam paid attention to the sounds of the park - children laughing, dogs barking, birds singing, river flowing. But it was so quiet compared to DC and New York, lacking the ever-present sounds of traffic and planes and energy he was used to. These surroundings should have been peaceful, but instead Sam found himself to be a bit unsettled. It took him a few minutes to figure out why… the park sounded old-fashioned. He breathed in deep and exhaled slowly.

"I still can't believe he went back to the Forties."

Bucky did not respond. Sam didn't know if Bucky wanted to talk about it, but Sam needed to.

"Steve thinks he can just pick up where he left off with all of us. The fact it was only ten seconds for us, in his mind, means we should be fine with this. But all I can think about are those times as a kid when you'd come back to school after summer vacation and your whole group of friends had changed because so much happened while you were apart for those two months. I don't know who that man is who came back."

Bucky turned to look at Sam, who could see the permission in his eyes to continue.

"Gotta admit, I hope he tried to make a lot of changes. Otherwise, it kinda hurts to think he yearned for a past when he and I wouldn't have even been allowed to serve in the same unit." Sam leaned forward and wrung his hands between his knees. "I mean, I gave up years with my family to go on the run with him. And he can just go back to Jim Crow and McCarthy? Before Loving vs Virginia? Brown vs the Board of Education? Before Stonewall and Malcolm and MLK?"

Bucky reached out with his metal hand to touch Sam's shoulder in a calming fashion. It bled some of the tension out of Sam, if not the anger. "I just feel like the man who could make this decision wasn't the man I knew. And I sacrificed so much for him. Clint, Scott, Wanda, oh god Natasha, poor Nat… the things we did for Steve. And he passed on the shield to me, but didn't trust me with his plan, and I'm just flailing, trying to live up to an impossible standard I didn't ask to meet. So, I'm angry, man. I'm angry."

Bucky merely said, "I'm sorry I don't have any answers for you."

And if Bucky had no answers for him, Sam doubted he had any for himself. He wondered how angry the man beside him was.

"You know, I bet he saved you in that other timeline he created."

Bucky just shook his head. "He'd already saved me here. That was enough for me. Guess I wasn't enough for him."

"Barnes." Sam hesitated. "Bucky…"

"You know, growing up, we thought Steve might not make twenty, much less thirty years old. Seeing him on that bench, aged and content, it's a goddamn miracle. All I've ever wanted is for him to be happy and healthy and whole. But I was supposed to be the best man at his wedding, the one who taught his kids how to dance and throw a baseball. We were supposed to get old together. And he got old, and I didn't. All those years I hoped he'd stay alive, and I'm still going to outlive him. I'm happy for him, I truly am. But I'm sad for me, okay? I just need time to lick my wounds."

The sun was setting now, casting a golden glow across the park. It brought out auburn highlights in Bucky's hair, but no grey. Sam was struck by the fact the man next to him was over a century old by the calendar, but younger than Sam biologically. And obviously, Steve's serum hadn't slowed his aging, but what about Bucky? How many decades did Bucky have ahead of him?

"It's okay to be angry too, Barnes."

"I'm not angry."

"Are you sure?"

Bucky paused to consider his words. Sam waited patiently, and after a minute or two, Bucky said, "With all the things I've done, I know I have no right to be alive, to be living a life."

Sam opened his mouth in denial, but Bucky stopped him. "No, just let me say this. When I realized who I was, what I'd been made into, I knew I didn't deserve to live. The only thing that kept me from eating a bullet was the fact it would hurt Steve. And look, I know it's not healthy to live for someone, but I was as far from okay as someone could get, you know? I wanted to die, but I couldn't do that to him."

It was hard to hear the pain in Bucky's voice as he carried on. "I'm a lot better now. Wakanda, you know? Nobody can control me anymore. I'm not a ticking time bomb. And I got to a point where I started planning a future. I just always imagined Steve would be in it."

Bucky smiled, but it was a small, bitter thing. "Thought we'd hit the end of the line when I fell off that damned train, but we both made it to the future. Like we were meant to make it here together. It was like some grand plan of the universe that we would live in the future together. And then he just left."

Sam saw tears fill Bucky's eyes. "And the worst part is, I never once left him because I wanted to. He walked into every damned enlistment center in New York, but I was drafted into World War II. They offered me an honorable discharge after he saved me from that camp, but I couldn't imagine leaving him to face battle alone. And that choice led to seven decades of torture and violence and murder, and I'm still not angry at him for that."

He brusquely wiped the tears from his eyes. "He decided the past with her was what he wanted, not a future with me in it. I can't even be angry at him for this. I always knew I wasn't worth it. So yeah, I'm sad for me. But not angry at him."

Something clicked for Sam, something he'd always suspected and now knew for certain, and he asked, "How long?"

"Hmm?"

"How long have you been in love with him?"

"Since 1934."

The brutal simplicity of that answer took Sam's breath away. And now things made sense to Sam, things about Steve and the urgency of his search for Bucky, the surety that Bucky was still there, underneath the Winter Soldier. "You know, for what it's worth, I would have sworn he…"

"Don't." Then, more softly, Bucky said, "Please don't. I think that just makes it worse."

The two men sat, both lost in their thoughts, as twilight fell upon them.