A/N: Hey everyone! I'm quite new in this fandom, but just let me say I hoped for these two to have their own solo movie or tv show since I saw them in Civil War. I'm so glad Marvel gave us The Falcon and The Winter Soldier!

This story is set somewhere between the bar scene in Madripoor and the next morning.

I just hope you like it!

A little warning: this story is un-betaed and English is not my first language, so let me know what is wrong! And if someone wants to volunteer, just PM me!

Happy reading!

"Are you okay?"

As soon as things got quiet again in that bar in Madripoor, Sam had worried about him.

Bucky had never really talked about the Winter Soldier with Sam. All the new Captain America knew about the Soldier came basically from his experience during the Hydra fall and the Civil War: the complete lack of mercy, his cruelty and the fact that Bucky seemed totally unconscious during those moments and scarcely remembered what he had done. Still, somehow the man seemed to know his feelings, and understood why he struggled so much with the mandatory therapy which came with the grace from the US Government.

Steve had told him Sam was a good person, a loyal friend, the one and only he hadn't struggled to bond with during his time in Washington before all the Hydra revelation. Bucky had never been jealous about Sam and Steve; he was glad he eventually had found someone to trust again, even if he had no idea Sam cared and worried about him too.

At that moment, he just had a second to nod. They were not safe in that bar, and they had to keep playing their role, as Zemo kept reminding them.

He had felt Sam looking at him, but he had just pretended everything was fine and went on with their mission. It came easier when impersonating the Soldier, it was one of the few qualities he appreciated about him.

Sharon had been a real surprise and a blessing, despite the fact her business was not that clear, and the reason they were now sleeping in a safe house instead of in a car or only God knew where.

The former CIA agent gave them two rooms. Zemo was now locked in the first one, right in front of the second one, with no windows large enough for a man to go through, and their door open, so that they could hear if he tried something.

He and Sam were sharing the second room, which contained two single beds and only a small wardrobe and two chairs. It wasn't meant for long staying guests, but only, as Sharon told them, for quick naps. Since the both of them had slept in worse places, they didn't really care.


Sam woke up for the third time that night, because of Bucky.

The first two times the former soldier was fidgeting in his sleep, but now he had started to moan and whimper and Sam wondered, not for the first time, if he should wake him up or if Bucky would consider it an invasion of his privacy; but then he heard him weep and he decided he didn't care.

Well aware that doing the wrong move would probably cause his death sentence, he moved carefully, approaching Bucky as he approached a soldier during a panic attack. Slowly, he placed his hand on Bucky's shoulder, shaking it slightly.

Bucky's reaction was immediate and so fast Sam found himself pinned on the ground before he could understand what was happening.

"Bucky. It's me. It's me, man." Sam spoke softly, trying to keep his voice calm and fighting his own fear. If Bucky had woken up in the Winter Soldier mode, he was a dead man.

Luckily for him, a sparkle of reason lit his eyes, and Bucky released him.

"S-sorry"

"No, it's okay." Sam sat on the pavement beside Bucky, who was still painting pretty heavily considering he was a super soldier. "Everything okay?" He asked, cautiously, not really sure he would answer him.

"You okay?"

"I went through worse. I'm fine. Are you okay?" He insisted.

"Yes… no… I don't know."

Hard as it was to believe, Bucky had just given him an honest answer.

"Because of what Zemo made you do?" he asked, hoping that the truth moment would last long enough to convince Bucky to open up to him.

"I-I don't know. I mean… I didn't kill anyone, and it was always me… The… Soldier, didn't really wake up. It was… a set up. It was okay. Thanks for worrying, by the way. I appreciated that."

Impersonal. Automatic. Pre-setted.

Sam hated when Bucky used that tone. It was the same he used when he was doing something the psychologist had told him to do. It sounded as a pre-written line, something he read out without believing it. Still, he had also learnt that he used that tone as a protection also, when he didn't really want to expose himself, so Sam let that go, at least for now.

He knew better than to force someone who wasn't ready.

"That wasn't easy for you. I knew it the moment Zemo told us what we had to do, I didn't expect he would have made you fight, though, That was cruel. There won't be a second time. I promise you, Buck. No more faking to be the Winter Soldier."

Sam knew he shouldn't make promises, but that was one he was sure as hell he would try everything he could to keep it.

"Thank you, Sam. Go back to sleep."

"Good night, Bucky." Sam sighed, but he didn't insist.


Bucky didn't really know why he reacted in that way. Sam was just being friendly, and he was sincerely worried about him. Bucky had learnt a long time ago that if Sam acted or said something, he was sincere. He wasn't the kind of guy who lost time into something he didn't believe in.

Bucky had also noticed he approached him in the same way the therapist from the Department did, but with a totally different outcome, probably due to the fact he never made him feel judged and he didn't take notes each time Bucky gave the wrong answer or didn't react at all.

Still. for some kind of reason, he had felt the need to protect himself behind that sequence of words the psychologist made him memorize to make him act like, how was that? Oh, yeah, 'a normal human being capable of having a normal relationship with other people'.

Bucky really knew, and could almost physically feel how Sam hated when he did that to him, but he really had no idea what else to do when he felt the need to protect himself and not to face him.

He didn't want people to feel sorry for him. He didn't need their pity.

He didn't want to be treated as a child difficult to deal with and be sent back home either.

Truth to be told, the few hours passed as the Winter Soldier, even if fake, had sent him into a loop he struggled to get out from. He had lived in the constant terror of having to kill someone again, that Zemo would order him to commit a homicide in cold blood or, worse, that the Soldier eventually woke up again, taking full control of his actions, and hurt his friends, or better, Sam.

Bucky would never kill Zemo but, as sure as hell, he would not mourn his death in case someone else killed him.

Sam was on another level. Even if the fact he had dropped the shield made him still furious, Sam was the closest thing he had to a family, and he would never forgive himself if he hurt him.

He started to think that maybe making Zemo break out from the prison had not been his best idea. What if Zemo knew some other method to activate the Soldier? What if he could have him as his killing puppet again?

The mere thought made him start to tremble.

You are safe. He tried to impose himself over his own fear. You heard Sam. He won't allow him to hurt you.

When had he started to trust so much someone who was not Steve?


The scream woke him up for the fourth time that night.

Sam sat up just in time to hear the agonizing yell coming from Bucky, and honestly he decided he didn't want to hear that sound ever again in all his life, either from Buck or another living being.

It was so painful, so desperate, so full of regret and powerlessness that tore his heart apart so hard it physically hurt.

It lasted no more than a few seconds, but they had seemed ages before Bucky woke up with a start and sat on the bed, breathing heavily with his mouth open, his face covered in cold sweat.

"Bucky?" Sam called when it seemed that the other man wasn't able to do anything but panting.

For the first time, Bucky looked at him, and let Sam see, for once, his real soul. He didn't want, or didn't have the energy to put on his shield, that expressionless stare Sam hated so much. It didn't really bother him, but it seemed as if Bucky didn't want anyone to see behind his face, as if he had built a wall between himself and the whole world, so that he would not get attached to anyone.

Sam could totally see why; now that he could finally have a normal life, his family, Steve, had decided to travel back in time and just stay there, to finally find the happiness he deserved with Peggy Carter. Falcon understood and was happy for Steve, but he could only imagine what that might have meant for Bucky. Now that he needed help to rebuild a life, his family was gone. Even Sam was angry with Steve. They spent the last three years together, on the run, living the same life, and he believed he deserved an explanation, or a heads up about what he was going to do, instead of finding him aged and receiving a shield, a legacy he never asked for, and never wanted. He could only think how Bucky might have felt, despite the fact he knew everything from the start. Steve was all that was left from his family, from his past. They've always had each other, and now that he needed him the most, he left after literally being the only one to become a criminal to protect Bucky. Okay Sam had done that too, but mostly because, in case Bucky revealed himself completely lost, Steve would have needed someone to help him go on.

Of course, Sam was always there if Bucky needed him, but he wasn't Steve, and no one could and would ever be like him to Bucky, it would have been foolish to think otherwise.

Still, Sam hoped that, one day, Bucky could trust him, but he knew it was a long way.

Maybe, just maybe, he could start with baby steps, little gestures that showed Bucky he was there for him not only when it came to battle.

"Bucky, what's up?" Sam walked slowly to his bed, kneeling so that he could see his co-worker in his eyes.

Bucky avoided his gaze, slightly turning his head, but didn't answer.

"Buck?" Sam spoke softly, more alike to the tone he used with his nephew than to the one he used with soldiers. He didn't dare to touch him, not sure he would accept him. "Bucky, however are you feeling, is alright, okay? You don't have to be ashamed. You had a terrible night, it's okay if memories have come back."

James didn't react, and Sam understood it was the moment to be quiet and just wait.

Bucky was different from any other soldier he had ever helped, plus, he knew he hated him for giving the shield away right now. Sam was angry about that, by the way.

He knew, deep down, why Steve had chosen him to have the shield; still, he felt like according to them, he didn't have the right to choose, to decide if he really wanted to be the next Captain America. He understood Bucky's reasons, and he was angry about the whole "John Walker is the new Captain America" thing too, still, he hoped that that didn't prevent Bucky from accepting his help now.

Sam changed his position, from kneeling to sitting cross-legged on the pavement. He didn't know how much time had passed before, finally, Bucky talked.


Who did he think he could cheat?

What had he thought to do?

Slipping back into the Winter Soldier character had been easy, way too easy for his liking. It had been so easy he started to ask himself if the program removal completed by the Dora Minaje had really been so effective and, mostly important, permanent. He wondered if the Soldier was still there, somewhere sleeping somewhere deep into his subconscio, ready to wake up and take the lead at a moment's notice.

He had woken up screaming, feeling the same euphoria he remembered the Soldier felt each time he successfully completed a mission.

That wasn't just a dream.

It was a memory.

Vivid.

Real.

One of those who made his way into his bones and heart.

As he came back to himself, he felt adrenaline pump into his veins. The horror and dread he felt resulted in that agonizing scream before he could realize he was the one screaming, just like it happened in those brifiest lucid moments in which he found himself in front of a dead body and realized it was too late to even try and save them.

After a second, as he found Sam beside him, he understood that if gestures and feelings seemed so real, the scene he had just dreamed of wasn't. Sam Wilson was there, sitting in front of him, very much alive and very much worried about him, waiting for him to start talking, if he wanted to.

By now, Bucky had learnt that Sam would not press if he didn't want to.

Unlike his therapist.

He could just sit there and wait for hours for him to be ready.

He would have never written he refused to cooperate.

Maybe, this was the reason he started talking.


"When I went to the prison to talk to him, Zemo greeted me with the words." Sam didn't need to ask which words. He tested on his skin how they were able to switch any memory from Bucky off and activate the international killer. The same words led him to the hard decision to be frozen again until a definitive solution would be found. "I know they do not have any power on me now, or I wouldn't be here now, still, for a second, I froze.

Today, when Zemo told me I had to go back and be the Winter Soldier again, I was scared."

"Scared to lose control?"

"Scared Zemo would use me to kill someone. Scared I should have to kill to keep our cover up. Then, he sold me, and… and…"

"Bucky… Buck. Stop." Sam interrupted him when he noticed he was on the verge of hyperventilating again. "Breathe, man. Just breathe. You are safe. You are safe. Come on." Sam kept speaking in his soft voice, shifting in a crouched position on his toes to be able to gently force Bucky to make eye contact with him to keep him in the here and now. It was the only way he knew to keep him grounded.

What he saw hit him like a punch straight to his face.

Bucky seemed no more than a little kid terrified and on the verge of tears, his eyes reddened by the few tears that made his eyes lucid.

'I don't want to do that again', he seemed to beg Sam, and there were no words that could express that prey more than that gaze.

Again, Sam knew he shouldn't make promises he wasn't certain he could keep. He couldn't be sure they would never need to fake he still was the Winter Soldier again, but he surely could assure him no one would take Bucky away from him, not like that, at least.

"Buck, no one will sell you. I'll kill them first. I promise you. You are free, and I'll make sure you stay that way."

"P-promise?"

"I promise you, Buck. I helped you when I was following Steve, even if I thought it was the worst idea ever. Now I'm glad I did. I can't promise you everything will be fine, or easy, I can only promise I will be with you until the end, or until you'll let me."

"I don't want to kill anymore."

"Then don't. Call yourself out." Sam wasn't attacking him, it was just giving advice, even if he knew (or hoped?) he wouldn't follow it.

"Would you?"

"That's not about me."

"I don't want to leave you now. I caused this mess. That's my fault if Zemo is out. Maybe not my best idea."

"Can't argue with you on that one." Sam smilwd, "Still, I was with you and I agreed to keep him with us, so that's not totally your fault."

"I never thanked you, by the way."

"For what?"

"For the help you gave me… I know you didn't trust me one bit… not that you were wrong. Still… you risked everything for me."

It took Sam a while to understand Bucky had completely changed the topic and was talking about Vienna.

"I trusted Steve, I heard you two talking in your flat, and during the fight, you escaped without killing anyone. If you were feigning, you wouldn't bother to even try not to kill anyone. they were trying to kill you, it would have been self defence. Plus, I didn't like the way they immediately sentenced you to death. That's not how justice works, no matter what you did. And I thought that if Steve were right about you, you were a veteran, and a POW, and it would be my duty as a counselor to help you and fight to clear your name in front of the law."


In that moment, Bucky saw what Steve saw in him.

When his friend told him he wanted to pass the shield to Sam, he didn't argued, but he couldn't say he totally understood the reason behind that decision.

Steve believed he would have been a perfect Captain America, that Sam embodied the ideas and the spirit his successor should have in his opinion.

Bucky, honestly, didn't think Sam did, but he didn't know him like Steve.

Now he did, and he understood what Steve meant.

As different as Sam was from Steve, they shared the same sense of justice, each one related and conditioned by the environment and background they grew up in.

He didn't want to go back to that topic, or fight again about it with Sam, but he spoke directly from gut to mouth.

"Steve was right."


"About what?" Sam was disoriented, again, by the sudden change of topic.

"About you being the next Captain America."

Sam snorted. He knew James wanted him to take the shield back and be the next Cap, but he didn't think he deserved that. Actually, he believed no one but Steve deserved the shield.

It wasn't just about a uniform and a vibraniun shield. Even if Steve had always been outside politics (he was a soldier, not a politician, as he used to say) and never allowed anyone to use him for that purpose, Sam thought the role of Captain America should be more concrete, closer to the people.

It wasn't Captain Avengers.

It was Captain America.

An historical, eroical, leadership icon Steve himself had forges during the years, detaching and sometimes erasing his first appearances as a promoter to collect money and volunteers to fight World War II.

The same symbol, now should be and, matter of factly was, stronger than ever.

Steve and Tony had been the leaders during the battle to save the world, and their sacrifice brought back life as they knew it before the blip, people included.

It was a heavy burden to take, which came with great responsibilities, now more than ever, and no one knew that better than a black man living in the USA these days.

Sam had tried to make Bucky understand his reason, more than once, and way more times than he would normally have, but he had understood that he would understand only when he would manage to not to see the shield as a family treasure. Yeah, Sam was aware that to Bucky it was personal, not business.

This time, though, he decided not to argue. He was too tired for a fight, and Bucky had just had a night full of panic attacks.

It just wasn't the right time.

"No one is like Steve."

"Maybe you don't have to be another Steve" Bucky commented "Maybe, about that Walker is right. Maybe you just have to do your best to be the best Cap you can be."

"I'm just fine being Falcon."

He wasn't lying. He had joined Cap because he had thought he could help people, and kept doing what he was doing because it was the best way he knew to do the right thing. The moment all of this was over, and the Avenger didn't need him anymore, he would go back to be a counsellor.

"So you'll just let them keep the shield? You'll just let Walker keep the shield and be an idiot?"

"No way." Sam declared. "As soon as this situation is over, I'm going to take it back or, at least, make sure they'll choose a real Captain America."

"Like you."

"Or like you." Sam retorted immediately.

"Me? No. No way. I'm a killer." Nucky shook his head.

"You are a war hero, taken prisoner and tortured, forced to become the Winter Soldier. The real difference between you and the Flag Smashers, or the other Winter Soldiers, is that you didn't have a choice, unless you didn't kill yourself."

"I couldn't. I tried. They stopped me."

"You… what?"

Okay, now Sam wasn't expecting that.

"I remember each one of the people I killed. After I killed Howard, something like what happened when Steve recognized me happened. I didn't know who "Bucky" was, but I knew I knew the man in front of me, even if I didn't have any memories about them. When I killed Howard, the guilt was so much I tried to kill myself. It was one of the rare moments of lucidity I had since 1945. Sadly, a guard came in and ordered me to stop."

"But you just said you were lucid?"

"Maybe it wasn't the right word to use. Aware it's maybe a more suitable word to describe that feeling. I would also say my emotions were awake. Beside that, I was still their puppet."

Bucky said that last word with bitterness in his tone.

Sam felt a shiver run down his spine as he tried to figure the moment into his head.

"So… you just stopped?"

"I couldn't do anything else. I was like a computer. I answered orders just like it answers to an input. I was only allowed to choose the best path and curse of actions to complete the mission successfully. After that, the General ordered me not to try to kill myself never again."

Sam remained quiet, not really knowing what to say after this new revelation. He was caught between contrasting feelings. If he thought about Bucky's condition at that time, he wanted to throw up and, at the same moment, to kill all the HYDRA agents they had in custody or, more cruelly, to let them experience the total control they had on James.

He also had no idea of what to do or to say after this.

Sam suspected this was one of the things he hadn't told his therapist about and that this qualified under the thing she could see under the surface but that he would not say out loud.

She defined it under the line "Subject not willing to cooperate" , and he knew that because thanks to an old friend in the Veteran's association he could access her report and keep himself updated on his friend.

He honestly had no idea if Buck knew about that, but he didn't feel guilty.

Eventually, just to break the silence and see if he could make his friend talk a little more, he chose what seemed to be an innocent enough question.

"Did you tell Steve?"

"You are the first one I tell this story to." Bucky confessed. "I didn't want Steve to worry about me. We didn't have much time to be together, and he was planning to go back to Peggy. He deserved his happiness, and I know that if I told him, he would've never left me…"

Sam just nodded, thinking that Bucky was definitely right about Steve.

He took a moment to study his co-worker. He seemed almost calm right now, sitting on the bed, with his eyes still fixed on the wall. Still, it was so rare that Bucky opened himself to someone else, that he decided to push a little bit more.

"Did you ever think again about… killing yourself?"

"No… not after I… came back. Not after I managed to free myself from the words… not until tonight."

"To… tonight?" Sam couldn't hide his shock.

Bucky nodded, his eyes staring at some undefined point on the wall in front of him, in that way he found odd and, sometimes, quite creepy, but that he understood Bucky did when he was trying to keep himself under control or was thinking hard.

Sam knew from the reports that one of the few things he still found difficult was to think freely, as if some reflex stopped him when his thoughts became too dangerous. He also knew he was making progress. He remained in his place, waiting for his friend to sort things out.

"When Zemo announced I had to be the Winter Soldier again, when… when he sold me, I decided that I would reather kill myself than going back to that life."

The selling topic again.

Finally, Sam found the missing piece he needed.

What upset Bucky the most had not been the show of being the Winter Soldier, but the fact that Zemo would have sold him without even blinking. He wondered how many times HYDRA did the same, and what he had been forced to endure if the mere outlook produced those kinds of thoughts.

Again, he tried to break through his panic and make him understand he would have never allowed something like that to happen on his watch.

"Buck… Bucky. Listen to me, okay? You can trust me. I will never allow anyone to hurt you in that way. If we weren't on his plane, I would have stopped Zemo right there when he told us what you had to do to get the information we needed. I know I'm not Steve, and that you don't trust me, and that you feel betrayed that I gave the shield away, but you can trust me on this. You are my co-worker, and you are Steve's family. I will protect you. I promise."

Sam realized at that moment he never talked like this to anyone, maybe not even to Sarah (which was good, by the way, because he would have done a terrible job to keep that), but he wasn't lying. He had seen so much pain during his time as a veteran supporter he was going to try everything he could to give Bucky the best life he could live once he would have gone past his guilt.

He realized the conversation was over. As often happened, Bucky wasn't going to answer him, either because he had pushed too much, or because he was overwhelmed by too many emotions he didn't know how to handle. It was just wearying, never knowing which it was.

The super soldier laid down on his own bed, facing the ceiling, his arms bent under his head.

Sam sighed and rose, going back to his bed too.


Bucky didn't answer Sam because he honestly didn't know what to say.

He had no idea why he had confessed he had thought about killing himself, something he had barely admitted to himself too, let alone speaking to his doctor or Steve, or anyone else.

Still, he realized Steve had been right when he told him Sam was different from anyone else he had met since he had woken up in this new, crazy century.

His best friend had recommended him to trust Sam, that he could help him more than anyone else in the world.

Bucky trusted Steve in the same way he trusted him in 1945. A primordial trust, which was more instinct than everything else, a bond so strong not even HYDRA had been able to take it apart, just like they couldn't destroy their chemistry on the battlefield, but trusting anyone else was difficult, even if Sam had been the first one by his side during the Civil War.

Falcon didn't trust him, still he trusted Steve enough to accept to become a criminal just to help him.

After Steve was gone, Sam had been the only one to try to keep in contact. He kept writing to him even if he rarely answered him, or, if he did, he did with short answers only; at the same time, he didn't try to humor him just to push him into trusting him, like most people did.

Au contraire, Sam had always been honest with him, no matter how hard he should have been at times; maybe, this was the reason why Bucky had never excluded him from his life.

Now, he was lending him his hand for the umptenth time, despite how he had behaved since he gave the shield away. If Buck thought about his own actions about it, he wanted to tell himself to go to hell.

He was promising him he would never let Zemo hurt him, even if Bucky had basically put himself into this situation breaking him out of prison.

Sam simply didn't care.

"Thanks.' He found himself whispering once Sam was back in his bed.

He saw Sam's smile out of the corner of his eye. The black man didn't answer, but it was okay.

He smiled back.


He was almost asleep again when he heard the word which was barely a whisper.

"Thanks."

Sam smiled. Baby steps.

So, let me know if you liked it