Day 1

Bucky woke to the sound of a hushed conversation and opted to pretend to remain asleep.

"I know," he heard Sam say. "No, I don't know who he is, but my only other option was heading back out into the rain. I'll be careful, I promise. Hopefully the stormfront breaks up and they start doing flights again. I've got alerts set to let me know when there's one available. I'll do my best to make it for his birthday. Love you too Sarah." He heard Sam hang up the phone and begin typing on a computer keyboard.

Bucky pushed himself up into a sitting position catching sight of his bedhead in the mirror. He ran a hand through his hair and down over his face. Sam looked up and behind him from the desk and greeted him with a "morning."

Sam was sitting at his laptop in a pair of shorts and no shirt. It was humid in the room and his body was glistening in the soft light provided by the wall lamps. His replied "morning" was hoarse, and he was willing to bet it was only half to blame on him just waking up. Sam turned to face him and let him know there was coffee in the pot and Bucky caught sight of his front. Holy fuck. Sam's abs were well defined, his pecks prominent and firm looking. Bucky's mind trailed off thinking of what his body currently looked like. He stretched feeling sore before feeling another part of his body waking up. Bucky clutched the blanket, bunching it up around his waist, hoping Sam didn't see his reaction to seeing him undressed. He shook his head, realising Sam was speaking and he should be listening.

"Sorry, could you run that by me again?"

"Yeah, I've been doing some investigating with online news and weather reports. It looks like we could be here a while. There's a large store not too far from here we could stock up on groceries. I'm sure we could get a cab there."

"No need, I managed to get a rental car from the airport," Bucky told him. "We're good for transport. Will the store be open?"

"It looks like it is, we might have to fight off some panic-buyers, but we should be able to get some basics to tide us over until the weather clears enough for us to get out of here." Sam told him. "I've been making a list of stuff I need to pick up, we can go whenever you're ready."

"OK, I'll need 15-20 minutes and we can go." Bucky decided, willing his morning wood to piss off before daring to get something to wear for the day.

They used their coats as umbrellas to get to the car, throwing them in the backseat as they drove. They planned to buy their own stuff and meet back at the entrance when they were ready. Sam suggested they trade numbers in case they couldn't find each other. Bucky felt himself seize with a panic when Sam asked for his number but managed to get out that his phone was dead, and his charger had water-damage. He suggested they exchange allergy information, so they didn't buy something they couldn't open and agreed on a time to meet back at the front.

He got as much as he thought could fit in the room while sharing the fridge space having heard a weather alert on the radio on the ride over saying things weren't getting better any time soon. He looked forlornly at the fruit and veggies that usually made up his diet, but would no way fit in the mini-fridge and pushed down the voice of disapproval about the food he had picked. It definitely wasn't on his diet plan. They stocked up with what they could before heading back to the motel, barely making it before the rain began falling even harder, something Bucky wasn't sure was even possible. He and Sam unpacked their food and necessities quickly before standing around, unsure how to proceed with each other present.

"I'm gonna get some work done," Sam said, "it that's OK. I have a report to finish from my trip."

"Of course," Bucky nodded. "I should get a shower plug my phone in so I can give my sister a call, let her know I'm OK." Sam nodded, opening his laptop and opening his report.

Bucky locked himself in the bathroom with his phone and clothes wondering what the hell he had been thinking when he agreed to share his motel room with a stranger. Hadn't he put himself through enough when it came to trusting the wrong people? He was basically just waiting for things to go bad with Sam. Even thinking about it made Bucky pissed at himself. Sam was a stranger, and he had no reason to think everyone would be like him. Sam had been nice to him; he hadn't invaded Bucky's space in bed the night before and he'd paid his share of the room rate.

Sitting on the edge of the bath, Bucky thought about turning on his phone. He imagined watching as the combination of worried and threatening messages poured in. The messages would mainly be from three people. The angry ones, Bucky would avoid, all being from the same person. From him. The worried ones were from his sister, Rebecca and his best friend from childhood, Steve. Fuck, he hadn't even thought about how worried Steve would be when he hadn't shown up the night before. Steve was going to meet him at the airport and take him to his sister. He thought about the text he would send if he could.

'I'm safe. The storms cancelled my connecting flight but I'm in DC, not LA. I'm at a motel until the weather subsides at least. I can't keep my phone on because one of his buddies might try tracking me. I'll check in as soon as I can. Love you both. See you soon.'

He thought about the text but shook his head and put away his phone. If he sent the text, he would be found. No matter what he did, he couldn't give away where he was. Not when he had no way of escaping. Ignoring the tears dripping from his chin, he wondered, not for the first time, if he was making a mistake by running. Whether he was being selfish and leaving someone else to take his place. He chastised himself for even thinking that and looked in the bathroom mirror. He sighed. He barely recognised himself these days. He couldn't wait to get home to Brooklyn, where he belonged and started feeling more like himself again.

He looked at his hair which was the longest it had been since he had moved across the country. He missed having his hair like this. He started the shower running and stripped off letting the water wash over him. Wishing it would wash away his fears and anxieties.

After his shower he looked at what he had managed to pack and sneak out of the apartment. For weeks he'd ben sneaking the occasional item into his gym bag and leaving it in his locker there in an identical bag. Just waiting for him to be too busy to pick Bucky up and make him use public transport. He switched the bags and outside of the gym he went left not right and straight to a pay phone where he could call his sister. Flying internally he didn't need his passport, thank God because he held onto it in the safe. Becca booked him a flight and got him an uber to the airport as Bucky's account was monitored. Being so last minute there was only one option, a flight that connected through DC. It would be the same plane; he didn't even need to get off… Until the news of the storms reached the flight crew. He told the help desk that his phone was dead, and he needed to all his sister to let her know he wouldn't be coming.

She rented a car in his name, and he took the cash that he had saved up and she had been sending to a secure PO box she opened in his name, to the nearest motel with a vacancy which was where he had met Sam. Kind, attractive Sam. Christ, were his standards so low now that kindness was all it took for him to like someone? He needed to stay focused. Needed to keep his head straight.

Bucky dressed, glad that the mirror was steamed up so he couldn't see his chest and stomach. If there was one thing his ex was good at, it was not leaving a visible mark. Bucky had never had to hide his arms or legs, but he didn't remember the last time he had been able to even sleep with his shirt off. Brock hadn't liked to look at his own handy work. Bucky flinched at the memories that flooded his mind, being told to 'cover up that hideous mess' before he would be back for the night. Bucky closed his eyes and covered his ears willing the venomous voice away from his head.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed until his heartrate slowed and his panic attack subsided because the rain still pattered relentlessly against the frosted window and there was limited movement from outside of the bathroom. He stood, painfully, trying not to irritate his body more than he already had. From his bag he took out a cream he hoped would help him heal now it wasn't subject to nightly punishment. He tried not to think about what his punishment would be if he got caught. He shuddered. It wouldn't be a punishment. He was sure that Brock wouldn't let him walk away from him again.

He eyed his phone. He needed to get rid of it. Needed it gone. Far away and where no one could turn it on. Where it couldn't tempt him anymore. He extracted the sim card and snapped it in half as a start and flushed the pieces away. He knew his sister's phone number, had it memorized so Brock wouldn't find it in his phone. He knew Brock had an app that could track him, and he was likely waiting for Bucky to slip up. To let his phone connect to Wi-Fi. Bucky wouldn't do it. He couldn't afford to slip up now.

The next thing he did was take the back off of his phone and removed the battery. Not wanting someone to find it and try the on button. According to the weather, the rain was due to let up very briefly that evening but there would still be high winds. He could run out at that time to get rid of the pieces.

When he left the bathroom Sam was still typing his report with the TV on low in the background showing the news. His phone felt like a lead weight in his pocket, and he couldn't wait to be rid of it. All he could do until the weather let up however was simply count down the hours.

He heard the rain dying down as the sun began to set. Bucky took his chance to get out.

"It's meant to clear up for about an hour. I'm gonna get some air while I can. It's supposed to be really bad tomorrow," he said, trying to sound natural as he pushed his feet into his still damp sneakers from that mornings' shopping trip.

Sam looked up from his laptop, "that's a good call," he agreed, rubbing his eyes. Bucky froze, he hadn't counted on Sam wanting to come out with him.

"I, um, I was hoping to just have some alone time?" Bucky said, hoping Sam wouldn't be offended by him not wanting company.

"Sure, I'll just walk the other way," Sam shrugged. Bucky let out a relieved breath and stuffing one of the room keys into his pocket.

"Awesome. See you in a bit," he called, moving probably a bit too quickly to seem natural, but as far as he was concerned, each minute he spent conversing was a moment lost getting as far as he could away from the motel to get rid of his phone.

Once he was outside he got into his rental car and drove in a random direction, figuring that could go further if he drove. He drove until he was in a rougher part of town and pulled into the parking lot of a convenience store. Behind the store he found a large enough rock for the job in mind. Setting his phone on a wall he smashed his screen beyond repair repeatedly bashing the rock against the phone until the casing was coming apart. Pulling it apart he disposed of the pieces in different trash cans.

Almost immediately he felt lighter and freer. He drove back towards the motel just as the rain began pattering against the windscreen again. He dropped into the lobby to tell them about the call he made to his sister and to cover it and picked up a book from the small collection of battered copies to keep himself occupied without a phone. Sam was already back and talking on the phone, so Bucky made sure to keep quiet. He ducked into the bathroom to apply some more cream and change for bed while Sam talked to who sounded like an excited child.

"Feeling better?" Sam asked. "You seemed a little jumpy before your walk."

"Yeah, sorry, I don't like being inside for so long. I'll try keep it under control for the rest of the time. My Ma used to tell me I was the worst kid to have inside on a rainy day as a kid."

"Don't worry about it, I used to serve in the Air Force, having strangers for roommates used to make me antsy as all heck the first few nights." Sam told him. "I finished my report though so I should be more sociable from now on."

Bucky nodded, wondering if he had it in him to lie about why he was going to his sister's place? Or about his life in LA.

"Great," Bucky said, hoping he came off as sincere. "I picked this out in the lobby just in case," he said, holding up the book. He hadn't taken much time looking at the options, just picked a cover he recognised from high school that he vaguely remembered enjoying.

They talked a bit more before turning in for the night. Bucky managed to ask Sam about his family without having to lie too much in return, keeping the talk about his younger years with his sister and best friend before he had moved to LA.

Day 2

Bucky woke the next day feeling much calmer than he had before. His ex had no way to track him now, as far as Bucky knew. He didn't remember the last time he'd slept so well. He put that down to being rid of his phone as well. He felt like he could breathe again, even if he was stuck in this motel room, he wasn't back in LA with him.

Sam checked his emails to make sure his boss was happy with his report before asking if Bucky would be OK with him working out in the room.

"My back's a little stiff from being sat all day yesterday," he said. "Nothing too much, probably just some stretching. Normally I'm a runner." He explained.

"That feels like a good call," Bucky agreed. Even though he had a gym membership he wasn't supposed to build too much muscle. Brock didn't like him with muscle. In his own words, he wanted Bucky flexible. He often tied him up when he fucked him, in positions Bucky could never achieve without regular yoga and stretching. Bucky didn't particularly like being tied up, but it wasn't like he could fight him off. He hadn't stretched since the day he'd run away and was starting to feel stiff himself.

They stretched in the open space of the room and Sam tried to keep up with Bucky during a yoga routine, just about managing some of the difficult poses, though he was sure he didn't keep much of his dignity in doing so. Bucky went to shower first, making quick work so Sam could take a turn next. While Sam was in the shower, Bucky stripped out of his shirt to apply cream to his torso and take a good look at himself. He worried he might have overstretched himself during the routine, unconsciously trying to show off to Sam.

He'd had a close call during their session when his shirt had ridden up, giving Sam a view of one of his nastier bruises on his side. Bucky had lied, telling him some guy at his gym had left a dunbell unattended and Bucky hadn't been looking where he was going. Sam seemed convinced but Bucky couldn't be sure. Bucky was so lost in thought he didn't hear the shower turn off or the door to the bathroom open as Sam came back into the room. What he did hear was Sam's exclamation of "What the fuck?" As he saw the full extent of Bucky's bruised body. Bucky whipped around, fear in his eyes. This was it; the game was up. "Where did you get all these?" Sam asked, concerned.

"I- I- Um…" Bucky stammered. He sighed. "I can explain. I um…"

"Bucky," Sam broke his chain of panicked thought, "breathe," he encouraged, taking Bucky's hands to ground him. "Good, slow it down, good, you're doing great," he assured. Slowly Bucky's breathing returned to a normal pace and Sam got him to sit down. "Take your time, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, and if you'd prefer, I won't ask again. But some of those look really nasty and I still have valid medical training from the Air Force, so can I take a look at them and any other injuries you think you might have?"

Bucky nodded, closing his eyes ashamed to have been caught in his lies. Sam was looking at him the way some of Rumlow's associates would look at him when they knew they couldn't help him out of his situation. He was looking at him with pity. Sam spoke softly, always checking Bucky was OK with him touching before making contact.

"He didn't start out like this," Bucky mumbled. "There was a time he was good to me. Charming. Maybe even loving. Then he convinced me to move to LA with him. He got more controlling. I went along with it because it was easier. I thought he loved me at one point, but I was blinded by my own feelings."

"There's no shame in falling for someone," Sam told him.

"I haven't seen my sister or best friend in years. I've never met my nieces or nephew. There's plenty of shame to be had."

"So you never argued?"

"What? Of course I did," Bucky snapped. "Why do you think he did this to me?"

"Then you've done nothing wrong. You tried and argued with someone who was abusing you. What more did you expect yourself to do?"

"I don't know… Tried harder? Anything."

"You did what you could," Sam insisted, "and you're here now. Do you need any help getting to your sister?"

"I should be OK… I left her a message the night we checked in from the room phone. Don't worry I already took care of it with the front desk. But I destroyed and got rid of my phone so he couldn't track me. I just need to wait for these storms to break then I can go to them and get my life back. It's the only thing I really want."

They sat quietly while Sam finished checking Bucky over. "I think you have some healing ribs, it's hard to really tell with all the bruising but you're alive so it doesn't look like anything punctured an organ. When you get to your sister you need to go straight to a hospital for a proper check up though." Bucky nodded, looking down at his clasped hands. "Here," he heard Sam's voice and looked up to see him holding out his phone. "Call your sister. Tell her you're safe and will be with her soon. Don't worry about any cost, my work has an amazing call plan. Our boss wants us reachable at all times so there's no limits."

Bucky held Sam's phone in his hands like a treasure gifted to him. He looked at Sam, his eyes glistening with thanks which he whispered. Sam stepped away to give him some privacy, taking his computer over to the couch while Bucky ducked into the bathroom. He typed in his sister's number and paused, his thumb hovering over the call button. It felt too good to be true, like a dream. He worried he would wake up back in LA, alone and in pain after his last beating, the one that had given him all of the bruising. He pressed the green call button and held the phone to his ear.

When he heard his sister's voice, Bucky felt like he could cry.

"Hello?" He did cry. His tears spilled over his cheeks, his throat closing and preventing him from speaking. "Hello? Who is this?" Bucky opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. "Whoever this is, it isn't funny," his sister said, irritated. "I'm hanging up-"

"No! Wait, Becca," Bucky found his voice and called out. "Becca it's me," he said.

"James?"

"Yeah sis. It's James."

"James where are you?" Becca demanded. "Did he find you?"

"No, no, I'm safe, I'm in a motel, I won't say where, just in case. But I'm still safe. The storms should recede soon, and I'll be able to get to you. I can't talk long; I'm using someone else's phone. I just needed to hear your voice again. And to thank you for setting everything up, the flights, the car. The money. I owe you so much."

"You don't owe me anything," she told him firmly. "I'll see you soon. Love you. Be safe."

"Love you too sis," Bucky said, sitting on the edge of the bathtub. He sniffed as he cried, mourning the lost time he'd spent away from his family. He thought of all the things he had missed. He hadn't been allowed to travel for Becca's wedding, her kids being born, even his ma's funeral. Brock made him reject all of the invitations and then hurt him when he had been upset over missing such important milestones in his family's lives.

He stood up to check himself in the mirror. His eyes were rimmed with red and his cheeks were tear stained. Bucky splashed himself with cold water before returning to the bedroom and giving Sam back his phone, murmuring a quiet and grateful "thanks."

Sam closed his laptop and turned in the chair. "You're welcome. How're you feeling?"

"Like shit," he replied honestly. "I've missed so much from her life now I need her to save my sorry ass. I'm not much of a big brother," he shrugged wiping away more threatening tears.

"It's not your fault, if she was upset with you then I doubt she'd be helping you get back to her," Sam reasoned and Bucky nodded. Sam told Bucky he was going to make lunch and give him any space he needed but he was there if Bucky wanted to talk. He offered to let him use his phone or computer again if he needed to, but Bucky decided to stick with the book he got from the lobby, though he wasn't really reading the words. More turning the pages to keep himself busy.

They spent the rest of the day silently. Before bed Sam offered to put the cream on Bucky's back where he couldn't reach. Bucky thanked him and went to sleep thinking about the softest, gentlest touch he'd felt in years.

Day 3

When they woke the next morning it was with their legs tangled together and Sam holding Bucky around the waist. After some initial awkwardness they got ready for another day trapped in the motel. They started the morning with another stretching and yoga routine before taking turns to shower and make their breakfast.

The day was calm and easy, they shared the space with ease as the rain pattered heavily against the window and the wind whipped around the building. Bucky felt a sense of calm since coming clean to Sam, though he still felt bad for lying in the first place. He lounged on the bed while Sam did something on his computer, the tv played quietly in the background so they could keep an eye on the weather forecast.

Their peaceful existence was not to last, though. That afternoon, just as the weather was said to be breaking and the storms retreating enough for airports to consider reopening a Break News alert flashed onto the screen and Sam turned up the volume, stealing Bucky's attention from his book.

"We interrupt this weather program to bring you a breaking news bulletin. The hunt for a man from LA is said to be happening across the United States of America. James Buchanan Barnes ran away from his home and loving partner the other day, without the serious medication he needs. Police are putting finding Barnes and returning him home as one of their top priorities. He is said to be unpredictable when he has been without his medication so citizens are advised not to approach him and to contact their local law enforcement if he is spotted. Barnes is thought to be alone…" The reporter continued speaking, giving a detailed description of Bucky in his last known location and appearance, suggesting he was in DC sheltering from the storms or had caught an onward flight before the airports had shut down. Bucky felt his stomach sinking and growing heavier as the reporter continued to speak, urging him if he was listening to give himself up so he could get the help he needed.

Sam turned to him, and he found his voice.

"I swear the medication stuff is bull shit. I don't take meds, he's lying," he said, hurriedly. "He's a powerful guy with connections and he's using them to lie and get me back there."

"I believe you. Even if you did need medication that's no excuse for the bruising and previously cracked ribs you had. You don't have any symptoms to suggest you're withdrawing from and kind of medication and I'm not gonna turn you in to send you back to an abuser." Sam told him. "Did you give the front desk your real name?"

"No, I gave them my friend's name. I gave them Steve's name."

"OK, we won't get away with that any more with your picture out there. If the airports are open flying is still out of the question," Sam thought aloud. "If we check out of here we could use the money we'd get back from the rest of the week to rent a car and drive."

"Where? Sam he knows my sister's is the first place that I'd go."

"Come with me to Louisiana. There's a place you can stay with me. No close neighbours. You'd be safe. The company I work for, Stark Industries, I both do and don't work for the company as you're familiar with it." Sam got his bag from under the desk and put it on the desk. He unzipped a compartment and took out an earpiece. "Control, this is Wilson, come in Control." Bucky watched him, trying to work out what he meant by 'not the company he was familiar with.' "Control I am with James Barnes from the news, the report is false, I repeat, the report is false." Sam turned to Bucky. "You should pack, if the storms are breaking we should move as quick as we can."

Bucky snapped into action, throwing his belongings back into his bag while Sam spoke into his earpiece. "I'll be taking Barnes to a secure location to lay low until the recon team can do their work. Expect an update on our arrival."

They packed up the leftover food and put it in Bucky's rental car that they were going to switch to one in Sam's name for added security and checked out. Thankfully they were able to get the rest of the weeks money back which they put towards the new car. Sam assured Bucky he would get the money back as the company would reimburse them. Sam insisted Bucky wear a hoodie, with his hood up and a baseball cap to obscure his face whenever they stopped to fill up the car and Sam made sure to go into all stores and the motel reception on the drive the Louisiana. Sam would have tried to drive the whole way in one sitting but his eyes were tired because he was alert looking for people who might have been working against them. They drove through the night and slept in a motel through the day, Sam said it would help them run into less people.

Day 4.5? 5? Bucky wasn't sure anymore.

They arrived in Delacroix Louisiana, Sam's home town, in the early hours of the morning. To get to the house Sam had driven down many roads and some dirt paths and even though it was dark Bucky hadn't seen many other properties for miles.

"Wait here while I check the perimeter," Sam told him, getting out of the car, keeping his hand close to the weapon he was carrying concealed on his belt. Bucky waited in the silence as his eyes adjusted to the moonlit yard. They were close to the water but had a good size yard which despite Sam claiming the house was rarely used was trimmed and taken care of. He watched Sam approach the door after doing a sweep of the yard and seemingly remove the cover to the porch light on the right of the door and tap some buttons. Sam had been evasive when he tried asking about his work, but Bucky deduced they were heading to some kind of safe house.

Sam returned to the car and opened the door for him. The humid air hit him as he stepped out of the air-conditioned car and the sound of crickets chirping filled his ears. Sam got their bags and handed Bucky's to him as they went inside.

"This is a safe house. You won't be found here. My work is going to send a medical professional to check you over. I can't let you tell your sister where you are because Rumlow might be keeping tabs on her and her communication. I'll try to get a message about you being safe to her, but it would be too risky to tell her where you are right now. The house is pretty far from any other property other than my sisters. I'll talk to her in the morning and let her know you're here but not to let the boys do the lawn. Don't worry about the news. She'll believe me over the news." Bucky nodded feeling numb. He had been so close to reuniting with his sister and best friend. So close and Rumlow had come in and stolen it all away from him again.

Sam showed him to a bedroom upstairs. Bucky thanked him, saying he'd see Sam in the morning. From the window he could see the moonlight reflecting on the river that flowed nearby and the subtle glow of the rising sun peaking over the horizon. Bucky was exhausted, having not slept well in the motel the night before and not daring to fall asleep in the car. He wanted to know exactly where he was going. He changed into the t-shirt he'd been using for sleep, uneasy at the prospect of not knowing what was going on around him. It felt all too similar to his life in LA, only then he'd had his routine. He would wake up, do what was on his schedule and as he was told to escape being in trouble. The not knowing made his skin itch as he crawled under the covers for a fitful and uneasy sleep that felt hauntingly and regrettably familiar to him.