Winter of the White Wolf

Chapter 12 - Guardian

Sam Wilson didn't consider himself a worldly man. He hadn't managed to scrounge up a life as fancy as Sharon had (Seriously wow. Sharon. Wow), and he couldn't speak more than two languages fluently, assuming you considered Cajun English something akin to a second language.

Over the years, he'd picked up a smattering of this and that on the job, but Wakandan was certainly not one of them, so when Ayo and Bucky had switched their mouths to hurry out that throaty, rhythmic language, it took Sam a split second to adjust to the sudden pivot in conversation.

In his experience, those sort of things usually happened for one of two reasons, the first being that the folks arguing wanted a private fight where they didn't want to have to bother to have their thoughts overheard by someone else. The second reason was the one he'd seen an awful lot more of in his life: when two people would start out an argument trying to be reasonable, and then the longer the water was left in the kettle to boil, the hotter it went, and the less likely you were able to keep a lid on your tone, your inflection, and the better you got at throwing out whatever you were feeling in your gut right out into the open in as raw and pure a form as possible.

He'd seen those sorts of fights more times than he could count firsthand. Hell, he'd had those fights with Sarah, and one wasn't even all that long ago where the two of them went at each other seeing who could press each other's buttons the hardest, cleverest, most pointed way possible (Sarah had an unmatched natural skill for it, too). And while he couldn't understand a damn word Ayo, Bucky, or even Shuri were saying, he was doing everything he could to try and decipher their tone and body language as they went back and forth like gulls trying to have the last word.

That was until Ayo switched back to English and spoke her truth, and concluded with a word so pointed and full of accusation that Sam couldn't believe she'd actually gone and said the quiet part out loud.

That word. He knew that word. Knew the harsh meaning of that particular word to Bucky, of all people.

And right before him on the black and white tile floor, he watched his friend simply break.

It happened right as she said the word, before she'd even loosened the arm from his shoulder as he just sat there on his knees willing her to it if it might earn him a drop of forgiveness, compassion, or understanding. It hurt to watch in a way that momentarily incapacitated Sam too. Even if he couldn't begin to know the history that crossed between them, even if they'd felt betrayed, there had to have been -

His eyes caught the flicker of movement from a nearby display as the violent part of that stupid the Winter Soldier vacationing in Madripoor featuring Baron Zemo and the Smiling Tiger-loop reached its peak. The precise moment where it looked like Bucky might have been about to take things too far and where Sam felt it necessary to intervene, to insert himself to remind Bucky that this had escalated well beyond his personal comfort zone, and that he, James "Bucky" Barnes, was more than a puppet on Zemo's manipulative leash.

But what he hadn't realized until the umpteenth viewing was how emotionless that dead look was on Bucky's face, and the fact that he didn't lift his eyes from his prey until he heard Zemo's stupid face offer him praise for his obedience, "молодец, солдат." He didn't know the exact meaning of the first part, didn't need to, but he certainly recognized that last bit: Soldier.

Goddamn it.

The timing of the loop was enough to prompt Ayo to glance to the display, vibranium arm-in-hand as she did. She met Shuri's eyes and something unspoken passed between them. Ayo pointedly avoided meeting Sam's eyes, but he didn't miss the tension on the warrior woman's face, nor the closely-guarded tears waging war in her own eyes that she sought to hide as she marched back the way they came, leaving Bucky languishing in surrender in her wake.

Shuri, for her part, at least had the decency to meet him halfway as she discreetly turned off the video feed. Even still, Sam felt himself widen his eyes and nod towards Bucky in what he hoped was a Seriously? I didn't understand half of that, but that last bit was too far and you know it. Coupled with a side of You have no damn idea how hard that man's been working to try to be a better version of himself, and now you two go and break him and make it my solemn responsibility to try to put pinocchio back together? Thanks for that. Really.

Sam didn't know Shuri well at all, but there was part of him that wanted to feel like he would have had the fortitude to speak at least some of that out loud if there wasn't this weird ambrosia salad of mixed fruit including:

One - Some of the accusations (at least the ones poured out in a language he understood) that were lobbed their way were fact and fair enough to be at least somewhat justified.

Two - Bucky was still laying on his knees hurting something fierce.

Three - There was clearly a lot of subtext and context he couldn't begin to navigate.

And Four - Oh, and Shuri just happened to be a Wakandan princess and brilliant scientist... who was not only a steadfast ally, but had also made his own damn suit.

Arugh!

That last bit wouldn't have stopped him from speaking up, but it did mean he wanted to make certain of his words before he said them. And right then, he wasn't feeling quite so trusting of his southern tongue.

Frustrated as he was in the moment, and oh, he was frustrated, he also wished he knew Shuri better so he could get a read on her expression right then too. There was definitely pain and regret in those brown eyes of hers, but there wasn't nearly so much anger as Ayo's. When her head turned back towards Bucky, Sam sensed something else, too. It was how she held her hands, rolled so the fingers rubbed against one another humanized her in that moment, and he realized that after all that had happened, all that had transpired, all the miscommunications and lapses of judgement and flavors of betrayal hung out like a mixin' of tattered laundry on the line: what that in that moment, what Shuri instinctually wanted to do most was to comfort Bucky, but she also knew it wasn't her place to do so. At least not right then.

He hadn't expected that.

In that precise moment, Sam suddenly felt like he'd gained a fraction of a superpower when he was able to translate that spark of the message in her eyes: Please help. He needs someone, and I can't be that someone right now, but that doesn't mean I don't care.

Sam wasn't sure what his face said just then, but he gave her a quick nod as he stepped over to Bucky, putting himself between him and the rest of the judgmental world and sending Shuri a silent I'll take this from here.

She bobbed her head appreciatively and stepped away from them, making slow, quiet tracks down the corridor, stopping at the far end to glance back behind her, as if making sure Sam had received her plea. They met each other's eyes for a moment before she turned and disappeared through the next set of sliding doors. Yama and Nomble stayed behind, but even they had the decency to take up position a ways further down the hall, giving the he and the sobbing shape of Bucky some space. He supposed it was too much to ask to leave them unguarded in the lab, but it would have been nice.

He focused his attention back on Bucky. Aside from the awful sound he was making, the only sign that he'd managed to move at all was the fact that in the last ten seconds or so, he'd lost desire to keep his body curled upright, and instead had let himself half-collapse forward onto his good arm the moment Shuri left them be.

He knew Bucky was an amputee, it wasn't like it hadn't been blatantly apparent for as long as he'd known him, but in all that time, he'd never looked like one, so it was easy to just.. forget. To see him as a whole person and gloss over the private struggles those intimate parts of his life had wrought upon him. But in that moment, it seemed like someone had yanked the veil free, and that and so many other vulnerabilities he normally hid in plain sight were laid out in the open for all to see. It was downright uncomfortable, but Sam wasn't about to leave the man to cobble the pieces together on his own.

There were all sorts of things Sam thought to say, the sorts of things you say with the best intentions when you want to comfort someone that's really hurting, all the while knowing the words are bound to fall flat because they can't themselves offer any magic salve. Instead, he forced himself to remember back to the last time he'd been anywhere close to this kind of pain, and he pushed past the discomfort of that isolating, personal hell, and focused on what he would have wanted someone to do.

His mind immediately flashed back to Riley and Afghanistan and the aftermath of that awful, awful night mission. After the initial shock came the condolences tossed his way like flowers. Next were people trying to make him feel better but sharing equally horrendous stories of loss that were probably supposed to make him feel a sense of shared camaraderie, but in no way actually made him feel better at all. If it wasn't that, it was all the people just talking at him trying to tell him about how the man had lived a good life, died doing what he loved (the actual hell?), and trying to find a way to use a mortar and pestle to grind out some silver linings out of sun-bleached sand that would make him stop feeling one way and push him to feel another way that was easier for them to stomach or relate to.

It took him only a fraction of a moment to decide what he wanted to do next.

He kept his voice low as he spoke to Bucky, hoping he might hear him through the static running in the man's ailing mind, "It's okay, Buck. I'm here. I'm gonna just sit beside you, alright? We don't have to talk."

When Bucky didn't respond one way or the other, Sam took a step carefully to his left: his vulnerable side. It was weird seeing the empty space where his arm used to be, but this wasn't about that. He wanted Bucky to know he had his back, and slowly, he lowered himself to the cold tile floor and sat a few inches away from him at what he hoped was a distance that wasn't stifling or intrusive. Bucky remained where he was, half-keeled over on the tile floor of the lab, hand clawed protectively over the side of his face as he continued to make those ugly sobs. It wasn't clear if he even realized Sam was there, but something in his haggard breathing told Sam some part of it had gotten through, and that was enough.

Sam sat, trying to keep his own voice even though inside it was breaking him to see Bucky hurting as he was, "Ayo and Shuri already took off," he offered. "I'm just going to stay right here for as long as you need."

Because that's what partners do.

With silent grace, Sam carefully rested the palm of hand on the crest of Bucky's back and did just that.

Author's Remarks:

Sometimes it's a struggle to figure out which point of view I'd like to use for each scene, but this one felt so perfectly suited for Sam to feel out and explore. I hope you felt it as much as I did!

While this scene only touches upon loss and grief, there's a song that came out a few months ago, and I remember laying in bed thinking how it felt like it captured a very particular sort of loss.

Only later did I learn the song came about because the artist (Lindsey Stirling) lost her best friend, and the resulting music video she did as a collaboration with the artist Mako was just... haunting.

Lindsey Stirling - "Lose You Now (feat. Mako)": On Youtube: watch?v=JEexIgFkMjI

Here's the acoustic version, which I also find really beautiful: Lindsey Stirling - "Lose You Now feat. Mako (Acoustic)" - On Youtube: watch?v=glOQyyMQ5AA

Lindsey Stirling - "Lose You Now (Behind the Scenes)" - Which includes context: On Youtube: watch?v=JOmEJwLMjuk

And here is the original song she wrote (instrumental only), as a way to express her grief, before partnering with Mako for the version with lyrics. Lindsey Stirling - "Guardian": On Youtube:watch?v=VgzTfdzj_Ho