Three days after their return to Earth, Sam found himself walking up to the porch of the cabin again where Steve, the real Steve now, was staying while he adjusted to being back in the world. Pepper had assured there would be no disturbances. Sam was pretty sure that he, Maria, Bucky, and Pepper were the only ones who knew Steve was there. Sam had informed those involved in uncovering Loki's trickery that the mission had been successful, but Fury had not cleared anyone else to know any details. The news of Steve's return had to be tightly contained. There was still a lot to decide, including how to deal with the few governmental officials who knew Steve Rogers was "alive" this past year. Sam was pushing for the "Hey, you were manipulated by Loki because you believed in his anti-immigrant, authoritarian views while we figured out something was wrong"-strategy. The whole team wanted to bring Ross down, and maybe they would.
But Sam didn't want to focus on that right now. Today was all about his friend.
Steve hugged Sam as soon as he opened the door. "Good to see you, Captain."
Sam felt his cheeks warm. "Don't you start, Rogers."
Steve knew Sam had taken on the role of Captain America. That's one of the reasons they were meeting up today. Sam followed Steve into the living room. He could not believe, just a week ago, Loki's deception had still been in place. So much had changed since.
"Coffee?"
"Sure, thanks."
While Steve went into the kitchen, Sam looked around the living room. There hadn't been much time for Steve to leave his own mark, and he was probably considering this cabin an impersonal transitionary stop, more like a hotel than a possible home. Even the landscape painting was still there. Sam pulled up short in front of it, though. A stick figure Captain America using his shield to hit a stick figure Loki had been drawn in.
"I think it's an improvement."
Sam grabbed a mug from Steve and sat down. "I agree."
Steve gestured at the case Sam had placed next to the couch. "That it?"
Sam nodded and handed it over.
"May I?"
"Go ahead."
Steve opened the case and brought out the shield Sam still considered borrowed, not owned. Steve tested its balance, ran his hands over the sides, spun the shield to inspect all sides. "This isn't one I used."
"Any idea where it came from?"
"Honestly? I bet it's one of the versions Tony worked on while we were estranged."
"So, this shield didn't travel through time, but probably came from that workshop in the backyard?"
Steve shrugged his shoulders carelessly. "Probably."
Sam moaned. That meant it was possible they could have done an inventory check or a chemical analysis and revealed the deception immediately. He was saved from admitting this oversight by the ringing of his phone. He winced in silent apology to Steve and took it from his pocket. Hill's name was on the screen.
"Sorry, Steve. I have to take this."
"Understood."
Sam walked out to the front porch. "Hey, Hill."
"Got a lead on a new recruit."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Danvers made a recommendation."
"I'll look into it when I return to the compound tonight."
"Yessir, Captain America, sir."
Sam rolled his eyes at the sarcasm in her voice. "Thank you, Agent Hill."
"You're welcome, Wilson." Now, Sam could hear her smile. "Kick Rogers' ass for me."
"Will do."
Sam returned to the living room, where he found Steve staring into his coffee mug.
"Do you enjoy being Captain America?"
Sam knew Steve would ask him this and had tried to come up with an honest answer. "I don't know that enjoy is the right word. But I've been able to do some good, helping people after all of us were returned."
"Yeah?"
Sam told Steve about his initiatives - home building and affordable housing for the displaced, mental health counseling, food distribution, climate activism. "Seeing the shield gives people hope. I like being a part of that."
"Always knew you were the right choice to carry on the name."
"So I heard."
They could no longer dance around the person not there with them.
"How is Bucky?"
Sam knew Bucky wouldn't mind it if he reassured Steve about his well-being. "He's fine."
"Where is he?"
Sam threw up his hands, palms forward, in a defensive gesture. "You need to give him time, Steve."
Never known for his patience, Steve pushed. "But I'm back, Sam. The two of you brought me back. I'm right here."
Sam took a good, long look at Steve. There hadn't been time for a conversation between Tony's funeral and Steve's mission to return the Stones. Now he had a chance to see the additional years of life on Steve: his face was thinner, his body was leaner, and weariness permeated his voice. Sam knew Steve had blamed himself, had isolated himself, during the time the others were in the Soul World. Those five years lived had taken a toll on Steve, physically and emotionally. And maybe that meant Steve would finally listen.
"Barnes can't trust that right now, Steve. It's hard enough for me. I can't imagine how hard it must be for him."
"But Sam…"
All of the frustration Sam had been holding back threatened to spill out, so he knew it was time to say his piece, hoping Steve would be receptive. He forced his voice to remain steady. "Look, Steve, I was in Wakanda, standing in an apartment I didn't know you had, looking at your designs for your future home with Barnes. And T'Challa and Shuri told me about your plan to ask me to take over as Cap, and I had to tell them I didn't know about any of it. Do you know how that made me feel?"
Steve's jaw had developed that stubborn set his team knew so well. "I didn't tell you about Bucky because I needed to keep him safe. The best way to do that is if nobody knew where he was."
"There you go." When Steve looked at him with confusion, Sam said, "You compartmentalized. That's how you run ops, sure. That's how you lead a team, fine. That isn't how you be a friend."
"Sam…"
"Not to mention you never asked me if I wanted to be Captain America."
Steve slumped, hands between his legs, head bowed. "I'm sorry."
"I know you are, now that it's been pointed out to you." Sam could tell Steve was working up a full head of steam, so he decided he had nothing to lose by continuing. "Barnes went for years feeling he couldn't trust his own mind. And then the only person he ever completely trusted betrayed him."
Steve raised his head to glare at Sam. "I didn't…"
"But you did. Somehow you did. Because there was a big part of him that found it easy to believe you could stay in the past with Carter and not here in the present with us. And I have to say it, Steve. That doubt is on you. Because at some point, you should have used your words and told him he was worth everything you'd given up for him."
"Buck knew I was coming back. That was the plan. You all knew it."
"Steve, I heard you. He told you he was going to miss you, and instead of reassuring him, you just said everything would be okay. What he needed to hear was you were going to come back to him. To us."
Steve stood up and stalked over to the bay windows to look at the darkening sky. He folded his arms over his chest. His shoulders were hunched up. A defensive posture, while at the same time not trying to take up too much space. Sam had never noticed it before, not until Bucky had mentioned Steve's insecurities, but he saw it now.
"I was always different, you know? Always sick. Always small."
Steve was facing away from Sam, who could just barely hear him. But Sam wasn't going to interrupt Steve now that he finally started to open up.
"At first, I had my mom. It was just the two of us, but it was okay. And then, one day, there was Bucky. But I never quite felt like I had him, you know. There was always part of me that felt like maybe I was a charity case to him. Because why would someone as amazing as him wanna hang around with someone like me."
Sam could hear the pain in Steve's voice as he went on. "Then there was Peggy, and she liked me well enough. She seemed to like the same things in me that Buck always said he did. So I started to feel like maybe I was someone people could love. Like I was worth their time. And then the serum made me into someone everyone wanted a piece of, and I started doubting people's motives. But not Peggy, not Bucky. I felt like they knew the real me and liked what they knew."
Steve walked back towards him. Sam managed to not react to the unprecedented amount of anguish on his face. "You know the first time I ever asked Bucky for anything? It was when I asked him to stay in the war. I'd just gotten there and fighting by his side was a dream come true for me, and look where it got him, Sam. Deep down, I knew if I asked him to stay, he would, and what kind of person does that make me? Because look what his friendship and loyalty and love got him. And I'd thought his death was awful, but what happened to him was worse than death, and that's on me."
Sam desperately wanted to reach out to comfort his friend, but getting Steve Rogers to talk about his feelings this openly was almost as much of a miracle as bringing him back from the Soul World. He gave Steve a sympathetic smile and let thoughts of Riley play across his face. Steve saw and understood, as Sam knew he would.
"So, maybe I don't let people get close. Maybe I don't want them to, because this? Is this someone worth knowing? Worth caring about?" Steve shook his head. "All of you follow me into battle, and I do care for you, but I don't deserve you. I don't deserve any of you, and I certainly don't deserve him."
Steve collapsed back on the sofa. "Instead of building connections, I just keep waiting for people to leave. Thanos channeled my worst fears, and he didn't even know how deeply he defeated me. I watched Bucky fall, I watched him turn to dust… I couldn't even look for him on the battlefield when you all showed up because I knew if I did, he'd fall again. Nat, Tony… it was all just a matter of time."
Sam finally spoke, knowing Steve had admitted so much more in the last few minutes than in all the years they'd known each other. "That's your fear talking, Steve. That, combined with the dangers in this work we do… of course, people are going to leave us, but not because they want to. None of us have ever left you because we wanted to."
"I know that, Sam, I do. Intellectually, at least. But not in my gut."
"Not that you've ever listened to my advice about this before, but therapy would do you a lot of good."
Steve rested his head on the back of the sofa and closed his eyes. "Think Bucky will talk to me again if I go to therapy?"
Sam boggled. For years, he'd broached the idea of therapy with Steve. Yet three days of Bucky not speaking to him had made Steve open to the idea. "You need to do therapy for you, but I do know it would make Barnes happy if you were happy."
"Alright, Sam. I'll do it."
Sam exhaled deeply. "I'm proud of you. I think it'll do you a lot of good." Then, to lighten the mood, Sam added, "So, is Barnes really all that?"
Steve opened his eyes and looked directly at Sam. "Rude."
"I mean, if he can finally get you into therapy…" Sam laughed. "Hey, I've gotten to know the newer version, and he's not bad, but tell me about the Bucky Barnes you knew when you were kids."
Steve immediately launched into some stories from his youth: how he met Bucky, the times he defended Steve and looked after him after his mother had died. Funny stories, sad stories, charming stories. Sam filled with emotion, watching Steve glow with his love for Bucky.
"So, how long have you been in love with him?"
This caught Steve off guard. "What?"
"C'mon, Steve. I know you love me. You loved Nat and Tony and Wanda and the rest of the team. But this? This is different." Sam softened his voice. "And it's okay to admit it."
For a few moments, Steve looked anywhere but at Sam. He clutched a throw pillow close, and his lips trembled a bit. Sam appreciated the struggle. Steve must be wrung out with emotion.
"How do you know you're in love with someone if you've needed them like water or air or food for as long as you remember? When he was such a part of me that his loss left me dead inside?" Steve smiled softly, a blush on his cheeks. "But when I specifically first said to myself that I was in love with him? I was sixteen years old."
"When was that?"
"1934."
Same as Bucky's answer. Sam wondered if the revelation had hit them both at the same time, prompted by the same event. Curiosity got the better of him. He wasn't close enough to Bucky to ask, but he figured it was worth a shot to ask Steve while he was in a talkative mood.
"What made you realize it?"
"You know I was sick a lot. And my ma was a nurse, so sometimes she wasn't around, but Bucky watched her closely so he knew what needed to be done." A dreamy quality came over Steve's face as he spoke. "This time, it was an asthma attack. I had an early version of an inhaler, which I preferred over the asthma cigarettes when we could afford the solution. Bucky made sure I used it, then he sat on the bed next to me, rubbing my back and breathing steadily. I matched my breaths to his and breathing got easier, and I thought to myself if he ever stops breathing, I will, too. That's when I knew."
Sam waited quietly while Steve sat with his memories for a few moments. "Then he died. And I died, too." Steve looked directly at Sam. "I mean Steve Rogers died. Captain America had to keep on living."
"Until he had a chance to die, too?"
Steve avoided the question by continuing as if Sam had never asked it. "Then Bucky was alive, and I felt like Steve again. And then he died, and I died, too."
Sam began to argue that nobody could possibly have coped well with fifty percent of the world disappearing, but stopped when Steve held up his hand. "I know what you're going to say, but I'm not proud of how I behaved during those five years. I was just a husk, a Captain America facade around a howling, angry void. I gave up, Sam. I let Nat down, I stayed away from the Compound, couldn't even talk about you or Bucky or anyone I'd lost. I told the public it was okay to move on, I told Nat I couldn't move on, but in reality, I just retreated." Steve covered his face with his hands. "I think I took the mission to return the Stones to run away from all of you so I wouldn't lose you again. And look what happened."
Sam still had his valid reasons to be upset with Steve, but the results of his decision weren't entirely bad. "Steve, you may not have created a timeline where Bucky was rescued in the 1940s and lived a normal life. But in this one, you broke through all the brainwashing and the torture. You brought him back to himself. Gave him a chance at a future. The question is, are you a part of that future?"
There was no hesitation from Steve in his answer. "If he wants me, yes."
"Then you have to be the one to take the risk, okay?" Sam reached out and patted Steve's knee reassuringly. "But first, you need to heal from your own traumas. You owe it to yourself and to Barnes. He has worked so hard to remake himself into a whole person after all that has been done to him."
"I know. We're both so broken."
Sam was adamant in putting a stop to that train of thought. "But you're not. You complete each other, but it's not because you're broken and fit where your sharp edges meet. It's because your strengths and weakness complement each other."
Steve hummed in thought. "I guess they always have."
"Barnes deserves you to be whole person, too, not some sort of project to work on. Take care of yourself before you go to him. Then you can take care of each other, the way you always have."
Steve groaned. "But how long can I expect him to wait? There is so much to be done in the recovery effort."
It occurred to Sam that Steve might not have been brought fully up to speed on his situation. "Steve, you're dead."
"What?"
Sam fought down the urge to laugh at the expression on Steve's face. "State funeral and everything. The whole world knows I'm Captain America now because you died saving half of the universe. You've got nothing but time."
Steve seemed offended. "But I can't just do nothing."
"Oh, I know. I get it. But you have plenty of time to figure out what you want to do, what your new role, your new life can be."
"I don't have to be Captain America anymore?" Sam watched as comprehension dawned in those eyes. Then, Steve let out a pained sob. "Oh, god."
Steve cried, ugly and sloppy and probably long overdue. Sam moved to hold him close. "Cry it all out." Sam kissed the top of Steve's head. "Just cry it all out."
Eventually Steve pulled back from Sam's arms and wiped his face. As he opened his mouth to speak, Sam stopped him. "Don't you dare apologize."
"How about a thank you?"
"I'll accept that."
"Then, thank you."
The two men silently watched the sunset through the large windows opposite the sofa.
Steve said, in a low voice as if speaking to himself. "I was never even supposed to live past thirty."
"We're all glad you did."
Steve looked at Sam, trepidation in his eyes. "There was a time, in those five years you were gone, I wasn't very glad of it myself."
Sam squeezed his shoulder. "That's a start, man. That's a start."
"Thanks." Steve sighed. "For everything. Let me make you dinner before you head back?"
"By make, you mean…"
"… heating up pre-prepared meals that Pepper had stocked in the freezer."
"In that case, I'm starving."
"Ugh, you're the worst."
Sam and Steve worked together to get dinner on the table. Steve microwaved two lasagnas while Sam set the table and decanted a red wine. "Must be good if it's from Tony's cellar, right?"
"Only the best for Tony Stark." They raised their glasses, and Steve added, "May he rest in peace."
Sam made it about halfway through his meal before bringing up a question that had been bothering him. "What made you willing to risk the timeline with that extra jump?"
"Besides my century-long friendship and undying love?" Steve sounded amused.
"Besides that."
"You're one of the few people in the world, thank god, who know what it's like to watch their best friend fall to their death, right beside them. And I'm sorry you ever had to know that feeling."
Sam closed his eyes and visualized Riley's smiling face instead of him falling, a trick he'd perfected over the years to deal with the never-ending pain of his loss.
"Bucky didn't die, though. And there are still days when he wishes he had. He has to live in the world he was forced to create. All because he turned down an honorable discharge to stay by my side."
"He doesn't blame you, Steve."
"I know, but I do. I had to take that chance."
"If you could, would you do it again?"
"I don't know."
Sam was surprised at that. And his face must have shown that, because Steve explained, "It didn't work. And I compromised Peggy and her career and this whole timeline all on a gut instinct."
"Your gut instincts have been pretty good over the years."
Steve merely shrugged.
"Would you do it to save Nat and Tony?" Sam forestalled the obvious question by saying, "If it was an option?"
"This world would be better off with Nat and Tony in it, so yeah." Steve scrubbed his hand through his hair. "It sounds silly, I know, but I tried to reach out in the Soul World for them. I couldn't sense either of them. I don't know if going to Vormir would help."
"Wakanda has the technology to go back in time."
Steve was shocked at first, then contemplative. "Now I know why you asked."
"Yeah."
"So, what's the plan, Cap?"
Now it was Sam's turn to be shocked. He realized he'd been hoping Steve would tell him what was the right thing to do. Deep down, he'd been depending on Steve to give him advice. And Sam knew Steve would, if asked, but he also respected Sam as his own person. Sam had always appreciated that about Steve, even if he was still unsure about his new role as Captain America.
"I think…" Sam hesitated, trying to formulate what he truly believed to be the best course of action. "I'd recommend we stay the course. Keep working on the recovery. The time machine will still be there, and maybe we can have a broader discussion with the team, particularly Shuri, T'Challa, Bruce, and Helen, about the possible ramifications of saving Nat and Tony. And, of course, I'd never do anything to save Tony without Pepper's knowledge. But it has to be a deliberate, well-thought-out plan with limited collateral impacts, as much as I'd love to have Nat back." Sam choked up on those last words.
Sam blinked away a few tears, and when he looked up, Steve was looking right back at him, his eyes glowing with affection and admiration.
"You know, Sam, you're going to be a better Captain America than I ever was."
Sam brushed him off. "No way. I can only hope to be half as good as you."
"No, really." Steve insisted. "I was built to be a weapon, at a time when a weapon is what we needed most. You are an effective leader, you understand the nature of people and society, and you are a healer. You are the Captain America we need right now."
Sam felt a weight lift from him. Once they'd rescued Steve, he'd been considering his role as Captain America to be temporary up until this instant. Not that it would have been an insult to return to being the Falcon, but with these months of experience behind him, he understood more the symbolism of Captain America. How the symbol meant so much to so many people. How him holding the shield could cause the symbol to mean even more. As he sat there, next to Steve, Sam recognized giving up the shield would have been a relief, but it would have also meant giving up the opportunity to become the Captain America he knew he could be.
"More wine?"
"Sure, thanks."
As Steve walked back into the kitchen to refill their glasses, Sam watched his friend. Steve Rogers was the world's first super soldier, but he wasn't invulnerable. His burden was that he thought he was. Sam knew he had to do things differently than Steve. He had to take care of himself, because he didn't have the serum to help him heal. He had to delegate tasks, to trust his team to do their jobs, so he could do his. And he had to learn how to carve out a life for himself, because being Captain America wasn't enough. Not for Steve Rogers, and certainly not for Sam Wilson.
Steve presented Sam with a wine glass and took his seat. Sam raised his glass and said, "To Captain America."
"To Captain America."
As they clinked their glasses together, secure in the knowledge he had Steve, Bucky, and his team behind him, Sam could finally see the Captain America he wanted to be.
