BRUCE

Despite the sun barely beginning to come up on the horizon and the streets silent and empty, Bucky still felt a little fidgety and alert. He was glad that Bruce tended to exude calm and peace, as they exited the Tower using a hidden door. On both their shoulders hung empty tote bags, and Bucky would feel a little silly if it wasn't for Bruce treating their outing as the totally normal thing it was.

They walked in companionable silence for some time, neither feeling the need to speak. It wasn't long before the sounds of human activity could be heard, and soon they were rounding a corner to a small farmers market.

"I have only a few things I need to pick up," Bruce said, turning to Bucky. "Should we split up and meet in say… thirty minutes? Or would you prefer to walk together?"

Bucky gave it some thought, eyes tracking the small mass of people intermingling as they all went about their shopping. He glanced down at his comfortable hoodie and metal hand tucked in his pocket, then nodded to himself. "Let's split up. I'd like to take my time, so you can call me when you're done?"

"Sure," smiled Bruce. He looked over to orientate himself once, then nodded at Bucky. "See you in a bit. Have fun."

Bucky smiled cautiously, then watched Bruce melt into the crowd. Taking a deep breath, Bucky murmured to himself, "it's just shopping." He slid his way to the front of the first stall, taking in the bright and colourful fruits on display, and his traitorous body started salivating immediately at the thought of eating them.

Carefully reaching out with his right hand, he weighed a few in his palm, brushing fingers over the skin, taking in their texture and colours. From the first stall, he brought a variety of fresh fruits; all ripe enough to eat. With his and Steve's metabolism, they'd be gone by tomorrow, if not later today. He pulled out another folded bag from the one on his shoulders, and nodded at the cashier who offered to bag them for him.

The young lady blinked at him, pausing, as he passed over the bag. Then recognition passed over her face for a second before she resumed her packing and then returned the bag with a smile and a "have a nice day!"

Releasing a tense breath, Bucky returned the smile with a soft, "thank you, you too." He moved over to the next stall before anything else could be said. He made it more than halfway through the market by the time his phone rang in his pocket. Bruce came to meet him at a dried fruits stall, recommending him some crispy sliced figs that he liked to munch on in the lab sometimes.

By the time the duo left the market, Bucky was laden with four bags worth of produce and even a few small knick knacks that caught his eye. Despite their bulging size, they were light – especially so for him – so they made good time back to the Tower before rush hour started.

"That was great," Bucky said to Bruce in the elevator. "Thanks for inviting me, Bruce."

"It was my pleasure, Bucky," Bruce shook his head. "I usually go to the markets most Tuesdays. You're welcome to join me anytime you like." He bid Bucky goodbye at his floor, with an open invitation to join him for yoga some time, and then Bucky returned to his and Steve's floor where he was mentally deciding between pancakes or smoothies for breakfast using the fruits he just bought.

SAM

"Steve's… a little tired from yesterday," Bucky gave a little shrug and a shy smile.

"Ugh, dude, I don't need to know," Sam held up his hands. "I was just wondering, as he's never been one to miss a morning run before." Sam quirked a brow when Bucky's gaze trailed down to take in his running gear, "anyway just tell him he owes me lunch after for slacking off." He grinned when that elicited a chuckle from Bucky.

Glancing behind him at the sun slowly coming up through the windows, Bucky turned back to Sam. "I could come instead," he offered quietly. He felt awkward when Sam's response came a beat too late than normal.

"Really? You don't have to, man."

"Yeah," Bucky nodded slowly. "Yeah. I'll go. It'll be nice to, when the weather's nice like this."

"Awesome. I'll wait for your downstairs?"

Nodding again, Bucky agreed and then retreated to get changed. He peeked in on Steve, still slumbering peacefully, and pressed a light kiss to his golden hair, murmuring "I'll be back, Steve." Pulling on his shoes, he asked JARVIS to let Steve know where he'd gone if he wasn't back by the time he woke.

"You don't have to keep pace with me, you know that, right?" Sam said, breathing still smooth and even. "I'm used to Steve's insane run routine by now," he chuckled good-naturedly.

Shaking his head, Bucky focused on maintaining good form. "No, this is good. Steve's crazy, anyway. I don't think we should really be compared to each other." Bucky grinned when this elicited a loud bark of laughter from Sam.

"Yeah, no shit. Wait," he squinted at Bucky, "does that mean that he's just been showing off on purpose this entire time? You guys don't actually have that much of a difference to us 'normal' folk?"

"I can't say," Bucky shrugged. "I don't know what Steve's normal runs look like. They might still be his normal. And anyway, I only got shot up with HYDRA's knock-off version of the serum, remember." His lips curled up in a wry smile, "what Steve got was the original."

"Can't be that much of a difference," said Sam thoughtfully.

"When we fought on the helicarrier, I remember being surprised that he was stronger than me. If I used the arm, it kind of evened the playing field," he glanced down at the gleaming metal. "And technically I—er, had more combat experience. From… being the Winter Soldier."

Sam didn't acknowledge the stilted words, nodding as he hummed. "Makes sense. So you weren't on even ground just because you both had the serum." He was silent for a moment, thinking. "Actually, it's pretty obvious now that you mention it.

"I saw the footage of the fight on the highway. After SHIELD fell. Thinking about it objectively… if I had to describe your fighting styles; Steve's would be… well, kinda flashy, what with the acrobatics and flips he does. While yours—or well, when you're the 'Winter Soldier', can only be described as efficient." He frowned, as if not really wanting to admit it, "from a combatant's perspective, your fighting style is downright beautiful to watch, man."

He aimed a wry smile at Bucky, but then dropped it at Bucky's slight frown. "What?"

"No, I—… You said… 'when I'm the Winter Soldier'…" Bucky repeated hesitantly. "Do you also—"

"I'mma stop you there," Sam cut him off. "If you're gonna insinuate that I still don't trust you, I'll tell you right now that I do trust you. Man, we've practically been living in the same building for half a year now. Yeah so you tried to kill me a couple times…" Sam shrugged, "shit happens."

Sam laughed at the incredulously disbelieving look that Bucky shot at him, clearly thinking he must be crazy. "I'm just saying. We all know that what happened when you were stuck under HYDRA… that ain't you, man. Clearly. But that doesn't mean that those skills you had as the Winter Soldier just… goes away. It's still your body, your skills."

Slowing his pace down, Sam turned to the other man, poking a finger in Bucky's chest. "The main difference now is that you're the one in control of it. And that's a pretty damn big difference."

Glancing down at the finger prodding him in the chest, Bucky responded softly, "yeah…" He didn't say anything more, and didn't raise his gaze either.

"Just spit it out, dude."

Grimacing, Bucky glanced up hesitantly at Sam. Damn, thought Sam. How the hell does this guy, HYDRA's most lethal weapon and the so-called bogeyman of the intelligence community, manage to pull off sad puppy-dog eyes worse than Steve's?

"You might be the only one that thinks that," Bucky finally admitted. "Trusts me, I mean."

Sam didn't push, instead opting to raise his brows questioningly, and waited patiently for Bucky to elaborate.

"Well, I—" Bucky bent his left elbow, looking down at the hoodie and glove-covered limb, "you say I have the… skills. And Tony, despite the risk, has clearly built this arm to withstand combat; regardless of how much he tells me otherwise." Finally, Bucky raises his head and looks directly at Sam. "But if I'm doing so… 'well'," he made little air quotes to accentuate the words, "then why hasn't the team—why am I… not being put back on active duty?"

Sam opened his mouth, but it was like the floodgates had burst open, and the words simply kept spilling out of Bucky's lips. "No, I get that I obviously can't be on the Avengers team. I'm—my name is too tainted by HYDRA and the Winter Soldier to be associated with the Avengers, which is supposed to be good—heroes, but I could still be put to use elsewhere. I could—well, SHIELD isn't here, but I'm sure Steve—or Tony—Pepper, could utilize me for the dirtier jobs. You know, the ones that the Avengers shouldn't be linked to, or—"

"Bucky. Bucky, Bucky!" Sam had tried to interrupt Bucky's increasingly hysteric tirade. "Bucky, shut the fuck up!" That got Bucky halting abruptly, teeth clacking at the sudden force of being shut, and Sam felt a pang of guilt at the response. "Look, just… calm down for a sec." Sam had his hands on Bucky's shoulders, where he had been shaking them previously to try and get through to the man's rambling.

"Come on, let's take a break, yeah?" Sam glanced around and they were in luck as there was a park bench nearby, which he steered a silent Bucky to.

"I'm sorry," Bucky murmured quietly as soon as they'd taken a seat. "I shouldn't've—"

"Shut up and let me talk," Sam rolled his eyes, slapping Bucky's flesh arm lightly in hopes that it would convey the light-heartedness of his tone. Then, he sighed and rubbed between his brows, "I think I should be the one apologising here. I on behalf of the team, at least."

"What… for?"

Sam let out a short huff of amusement before turning a contrite smile to Bucky. "For assuming your thoughts on the matter." He looked away for a moment, then continued seriously. "Look, the team already discussed this. Awhile back, actually. It was a pretty unanimous decision to leave you out of the Avengers business."

"What—" Bucky felt like his blood had frozen in his veins. "Why… Did I do som—"

"No, no. Stop," Sam held out a hand. "Okay, maybe I worded that wrongly. The team decided that you shouldn't have to… 'return to active duty', as you put it." Sam paused, gaze softening as he reached out and laid a gentle hand on Bucky's tense one. "Bucky. We may have only known you for a short time… but everyone can see that you were never meant for fighting."

Frowning, Bucky protested, "but Steve—"

"Yeah, Steve was probably the only one arguing for your place on the team," Sam nodded. "But after the rest of us beat some sense into him to actually think for once… Well. Then we had to stop him from beating himself up about it."

"I—I don't… understand…" Bucky shook his head. "I can fight. I've always had Steve's back. In the war, and before it. Steve needed—"

"You don't gotta worry about Steve on the field, Bucky. Even you have to know there's no better team to support Steve than the Avengers. Sure, the rest of us combined probably equal you alone when it comes from keeping that knucklehead safe, but we will."

Squeezing Bucky's hand, Sam waited until Bucky met his gaze to continue. "It's not a weakness to not want to fight, Bucky." He held back the pity in his eyes when Bucky dropped his gaze. "Be honest with me. Have you ever really wanted to be part of a fight? You, yourself. Not for Steve, or your country or anyone else."

When Bucky hesitated, Sam continued quietly, "you know, I consider myself pretty well-versed with military history. And Tony – don't tell him I told you this – he used to be a pretty big fan of yours growing up, apparently."

"What I'm saying is… I know enough about World War Two to know that your serial number doesn't match up with the stories and records." The sharp intake of air from Bucky was telling, as was the slight tremble that shook the hand under Sam's grasp. "And even Tony was able to read between the lines of the contradictory tales of your history to know that you've just been pulled from one fight to the next your whole life."

Bucky's heart was pounding in his chest so hard that he was afraid it was going to break through his ribs. He felt overwhelmed; unsure of how he should react. He had initially been scared, then affronted at the thought of being deemed 'unworthy'.

Hearing Sam explain that the Avengers, the team themselves had… basically allowed him to stay out of fights this whole time… He felt both relieved and guilty. Guilty to be relieved. The sting in his eyes and his chest also said that he was both embarrassed yet touched, by these people… these people he was slowly starting to think of as friends. Perhaps even more than just simple 'friends'.

"But…" he began uncertainly. "I can't just… not do anything… Not if I—"

"There's no shame in wanting to get out. Yeah, perhaps Steve isn't one of those people. But I got out before, and I'm back now because I want to. Same thing, I think, with Tony. And Bruce, probably, but you can see that the team doesn't ask Bruce to get involved unless absolutely necessary."

"And that… could be me?"

"Of course," Sam shrugged easily. "You could do anything you want, Bucky. Be anyone you wanted, now."

"I… I'm not sure I even know who that is, anymore," Bucky admitted so quietly that Sam almost missed it.

"Well," Sam said, feeling a sense of déjà vu. "What makes you happy?"

"I don't know," came the exact same reply. There was a beat, then, "but… it isn't fighting."

Sam smiled. A real, relieved, and happy smile. "And that's perfectly fine. Most people don't know, either. It's up to us to find that out for ourselves."

"But how?" Bucky felt a little frustration. He felt lost. He'd had to do nothing but follow orders – and Steve – for so long, he didn't know what to do when it was him making the decisions. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Live, Bucky."