(August Catch-All) The Things We Do

[unclesam]

CHARACTERS: Sam Wilson & You (Open + Closed Starters)
LOCATION: Various aboard the station
DATE: Immediately post mission + the days after.
CONTENT: Catch-all prompts for post mission feelings
WARNINGS: Will be added to Top Levels

[ Top Levels in comments:
Infirmary: angsty hurt people after returning from the mission
Mess Hall: the evening post mission, after the food delivery, alcohol is on the table
Simulation Room: the day after the mission, sam disappears and can be found zoned out in the simulation room
Training Room: hot dude working up a sweat while training, various days post mission
Lab and Tech Storage: redwing is the best boi, fight me (and Sam)
TBA: maybe closed starters for Bucky/Natasha?

If you'd like a closed starter or have a different kind of thread idea for which none of these setups work, feel free to hit me at inkcharm, Discord inkcharm#4573 or send me a PM. ]

Comments

[unclesam]

[ I ain't going anywhere.

It hit Sam's chest hard, knocks a few things loose and sideways that he's allowed to get wedged shut in there. And this close, there's no hiding the way his eyes snap to Bucky's, the way they immediately shine too bright with years of grief, of surviving and moving on while others die or leave or are otherwise lost to him. Grief has dug deep trenches into Sam's heart, and every time he just fills them up with love again until they overflow, until he doesn't know where to put the emotion, because he's got so few people left who well and truly know him, and love him back anyway.

And he never, ever gets to say good-bye to any of them.

He's glad Bucky found him, just like he's glad weeks ago Bucky came down to Delacroix with that case from Wakanda. Inserted himself when Sam needed someone to show up for him. And perhaps it's because they're here, where Sam can pretend for a moment that they're home instead of in space, that for once in his life Sam doesn't close himself off completely, doesn't hide behind a quip or a smile where it's safe. Just swallows hard, takes a breath that shudders slightly in his chest, stares at Bucky, slowly blurring behind tears Sam's still refusing to let fall, clinging on to that last shred of control he has over his grief.

And then he moves in, wraps his arms tight around Bucky, and pulls the man into a hug.

It's not that they've not touched before. Hands patting against shoulders and backs and waists, clasping in silent promises. He remembers Bucky's chin on his shoulder at the cookout when he pulled the man in for a brief hug at his arrival. That's a thing they do now.

It's just that this isn't something they've done before - just hug. Not in greeting, not in parting, just do it for the hell of it, arms tight, breaths falling into sync, and just holding someone and being held in return. And Sam's not going to let go until Bucky's had enough - not for a while at least. He needs it, and he figures, if he does, then maybe Bucky does as well.

Sam didn't mean to disappear on Bucky after all the guy's done for him back during the mission to make it all more bearable. And he could kick himself, but he can't undo that. He can just be here, now, and not push Bucky away even when his gut instinct is to shield himself and hide everything Bucky can likely see so clearly in this entire situation.

He could tell Bucky, he thinks. About Riley. Tell him more than he ever told Steve even, perhaps. Turn 'I lost my wingman' into a more than an anecdotal reference of his grief. Tell him that his hallucinations made everyone look like they'd suffered Riley's death, too.

Sam grips into the hug a little harder. Holds onto Bucky like a lifeline.

And instead, he says: ]

I was gonna ask you to come stay here. Break your lease in Brooklyn. Come home instead.

[starer]

[He looks like he's going to cry.

Sam looks like he's going to cry, and all Bucky can think is that it's his fault. That he's to blame for that look on his face. For being the one to cause the other man pain. It's the absolute last thing he wants to do, and it takes all he has to keep himself from making a retreat. From getting out of there before he makes things any worse.

But then the hug comes and Bucky--

For the longest time, he doesn't move. Doesn't breathe. Can't. Its been a long time since anybody sought him out for any kind of comfort. A long time since he was offered up anything more than a squeezed shoulder or a pat on the back. And he has no idea what to do with it. How to respond.

How to make it clear that his lack of a response isn't a rejection. Not when that's the complete opposite of what he wants right now.

It isn't until Sam speaks again that Bucky finally takes a shuddering breath. That his arms move to grab ahold of the other man in turn. His hands end up twisted in the back of Sam's shirt, just shy of tearing the fabric with the roughness of that grip.

The offer is too much. More than he deserves. (Everything he wants.) Sam is too good of a person to allow a person like him in to his life like that. Those visits to Delacroix, the time he spent around Sarah and the boys. After everything Bucky has put Sam through, he should have turned him away a long time ago. And yet for some, crazy reason, he never did. He even welcomed Bucky into his life.

And now-]

Take it back.

[The offer. Sam needs to take it back before Bucky accepts it. Needs to retract the promise of a future for him in Delacroix, of a place to finally start building a life for himself, because Bucky knows he doesn't deserve it. How could he, when all he's done is hurt those around him? There's a reason he was brought to this station, and it doesn't end with the two of them heading back together.]

You've gotta take it back, Sam. Please.

[His voice is quiet, barely more than a whisper. Muffled slightly by the way he's given in to press his forehead to Sam's shoulder. By the way he's finally giving up the fight and sinking in to the hug.]

[unclesam]

[ For the longest time, Sam had genuinely assumed Bucky was touch averse. After everything he'd been though, who could blame the man? Being a prisoner of war, being torture, being made a weapong without bodily autonomy. He's just a man underneath all that trauma and serum, just some guy from Brooklyn who was drafted into the army, and whose life went to true and utter shit after that. Who could blame him for not being big on touch, right?

So for a while, Sam thinks that this is about to turn really awkward. That he's gonna hang on to Bucky for dear life and realize too late he pushed too far, reached for too much, for things Bucky's not willing to share. Sam's been good before, about letting Bucky come to him, careful to let Bucky set the pace and boundaries of physical touch, and he's about to kick himself for screwing up and overstepping when Bucky finally moves, pulls him in and holds on so tight Sam's not sure if his shirt is gonna survive the encounter, with a desperation Sam's hardly prepared for but feels to the very bone.

Oh. You really, badly need this, don't you.

Maybe he got it wrong.

Maybe Bucky is starved for it rather than averse to it.

Maybe Bucky needs this as badly as Sam, and maybe even more.

When Bucky begs him to take the offer back despite how he's sinking into the hug, Sam shifts more into it, too, one hand rubbing small, soothing circles between his shoulder blades, the other curled tight into the fabric of Bucky's shirt. Barely enough room between them for air, and yet Sam would pull Bucky further in if only he could.

Sam shakes his head a little, eyes squeezed shut, every part of him wrapped up in this moment. ]

You're good here, Buck, so damn good. And you gotta know that you belong. Door's never gonna be closed to you.

[ He's not taking it back. He can't.

But... ]

You're leaving, aren't you? With the orbs.

[ He's had the suspicion since he asked about Bucky's regret, and got nothing real from him. Something deep down inside of him has known ever since that this might be it, their shared time on this station, that he might go home to all of this without Bucky.

Sam doesn't know the shape and detail of it. Assumes, vaguely, that maybe Bucky wishes he'd gone with Steve after Thanos was defeated, or that he'd never fallen off the train to become the Winter Soldier, or that he could go back to Wakanda, where he'd been at peace. And who is Sam to deny Bucky of all people his choice, to tell him no, to tell him he can't or he shouldn't, to call him a dumbass and tell him to sabotage his own wish just because Sam wants to keep him? It'd be selfish, it'd be cruel. If anyone's earned the right to choose for himself, to have his autonomy respected, it's Bucky Barnes. ]

It's okay.

[ Maybe it is. Sam's not, but maybe that just needs to be okay for now, too.

What is one more loss? ]

[starer]

I'm not worth it.

[The words are a quiet admission, his guilt rearing its head all over again. After everything that Sam has done for him, for Natasha, for Steve- Here Bucky is, trying to throw all of that away. To toss aside all the time and effort, the patience, that Sam has afforded him over the years. To erase all the work that Sam put in to building their friendship.

Sam made him human, and now Bucky wants to undo all of it.

The fact that Sam's practically given him his blessing honestly makes him feel sick.

So he ends up loosening his hold. Ends up stepping away and dropping the grip that he'd found comfort in only seconds before. How can he keep taking from Sam when his sole reason for being here is to undo all that they've built between them?]

I've killed...so many people. Coming here-

[He looks away, hands curling in to fists as he tries to find the words he needs. After three months on this station though, he still hasn't gotten any closer to that. Still hasn't found a way to ease Sam in to the fact that-]

Can't become Hydra's weapon if I'm already dead.

[So no, he's not there to just switch which arm he lost.]

[unclesam]

[ His fingertips feel numb. Sam thinks he can feel the breeze from Wakanda on his skin, about to carry him off and scatter him like dust. He can feel the way the world has dropped away from him, same as it did when Riley fell, close to as it did when he heard about Natasha and when he realized Steve had left without a good-bye.

He reaches out, curls both hands around Bucky's clenched fists. One flesh, one vibranium, and Sam doesn't shy away from either. On the Winter Soldier, the metal arm was a weapon. On Bucky, Sam just sees a prosthetic. He knows it's now how Bucky feels about himself, though. ]

You're more than the worst thing you did.

[ Sam squeezes lightly, fingers rubbing along wrists and knuckles, trying to coax Bucky into relaxing his hands. They're standing close, and even with Bucky's gaze turned away, Sam's eyes stay on him, brown eyes turned amber in the simulated, setting sun. ]

And you're more than the worst thing done to you as well.

[ Two things can be true. Bucky's hands can have killed countless people, and Bucky himself can be blameless. Being brainwashed and being completely removed from the experience are two different things, though.

Over the docks, children's laughter drifts and echoes from the cookout, layered with the music. Sam remembers seeing Bucky talk to Sarah with several children dangling off his arm like monkey bars. ]

You're worth more than what you got, Buck.

[ He's losing him. ]

Wherever you need to go. I'll help you reach whatever peace you need, even if I wish it were here. But I know you know this ain't it. That it's just gonna be someone else if it ain't you. And I don't think you want that, not really.

[ Someone who might be worse, who might kill more, take to the role better, fight back less hard. Someone who might kill Steve. Or else someone who might deserve it no more than Bucky ever did. It's cruel and unfair - but Sam knows Bucky isn't looking to save himself here. Just hasn't considered that his death doesn't do anyone any good either.. ]

[starer]

[He wants to pull away. To release himself from Sam's hold, because he doesn't deserve the level of care and understanding that comes with the touch. The forgiving. If Sam knew even half of the secrets that Bucky was keeping to himself, half the murders, he would have never let him anywhere near his family. And he wouldn't be stood here right now, doing all he can to talk him down from the proverbial ledge.

This isn't why he came here. Why he bypassed the medbay in favor of the simulation room. Viveca had brought up Sam because she was worried about him. And here he is, once again, getting in the way of what matters.

So he finally pulls away again. Slips his hands free and takes a purposeful step backwards. Puts more space between them to make it clear that that conversation is over. And if it wasn't already obvious, the smirk that slips on to his face is likely all the evidence Sam needs that Bucky is putting an end to that topic entirely.]

You gonna tell me why Viveca was the one who had to tell me to talk to you?

[Never mind that it's also on Bucky for not keeping a closer eye on Sam in the first place. For not keeping track of all those obvious tells that Sam is getting closer and closer to the edge. That he's once again taken on the weight of the world and refuses to give up some of the burden.]

You don't want to talk to me, fine. But you've got Romanoff here too. You really think you can ghost her for long?

[unclesam]

[ Sam watches Bucky step back with a sigh. It doesn't come as much of a surprise, truth be told, that Bucky needs to retreat. And while Sam doesn't want to let it go, he also knows that sometimes he has to let Bucky pull back, because sometimes to push would be to push the man way. It's why for months, he texted, made sure Bucky knew there was an open there, when part of Sam had wanted to drop in on the man and push back into his life.

It worked out, even if it had been like pulling teeth.

So Sam lets Bucky pull back, and answers the smirk with a flat, unimpressed look that promises the topic's done - for now. But he won't just let it slide completely. Won't let Bucky slide completely. ]

'cause I was gonna lock myself in the worst day of my life. Relieve it a couple times, see if I could change the outcome if I'd just been better.

[ He crosses his arms, eyes trailing over to the horizon. ]

Saw Tasha in the infirmary, actually. She caught me when everyone else was patched up. And don't worry, price of admission for making sure she's okay was having her make sure I actually took care of myself, too. I'm... fine. Just... 'came here to do something royally stupid and unhealthy, and didn't end up doing it. That's all. Chose this instead, 'cause... this is good. This is ours.

[ His arms tighten. Sam clenches his jaw, swallows, and then his posture sags, the defensiveness seeping away at least a little. ]

I didn't know how to ask you to come here with me just for my sake.

[starer]

[The worst day of his life. As much as he knows that Steve leaving had hit him hard, he knows that isn't it. Even Karli's death, the very reason that Sam's here isn't enough. It's something more personal than that. Something closer to Sam's heart. His parents deaths, perhaps. His aunt. But then there's the conversation from before, and the answer is obvious-]

Riley.

[His smirk fades, replaced with something far kinder. More understanding. Regrets have filled the majority of his post-Hydra days. So he knows what it feels like to wish he could change the past. To protect at least one more person. But Sam is better than that. Always has been. Always will be. He throws himself in to harms way, doing anything he can to protect the people around him. He's taken beatings, has bled for the cause. And still, he continues fighting.

Continues hurting. Suffering. Because he'd sooner keep those problems to himself than ask for help.

...he really does have a type when it comes to best friends.]

Next time you decide you need this, you tell me.

[Because he doesn't need to ask. If Sam needs the company, then Bucky will drop whatever he's doing to be there.]

You're not alone, Sam.

[unclesam]

[ It's the same expression that Sam had when Bucky apologized to him over the shield. A furrow between his brows, that shaky intake of breath and slow exhale on slumping shoulders. Some things you need to hear, but they still pull at you hard. Sam... hadn't quite realized how badly he needed to hear someone tell him this lately. It's something he's known, on some level - he's got his sister, he's got the community in Delacroix, and he knows he's got Bucky - and Natasha, here and now.

Still hits different to be told he's not alone, especially when that's something he tries very hard to be. Alone in shouldering the weight of the whole damn world if he must.

But he's really not, isn't he? Maybe it's time he starts letting himself count on the fact that he's got Bucky - and that opening up to him won't be seen as burdening him. That Bucky has planted himself in Sam's corner not out of obligation but because it's where he wants to be, and would stop anything else to have Sam's back just the same as Sam would for him. ​]

Thank you.

[ Because he is grateful to hear it - and perhaps, needed that reminder a little bit.

He holds his hand out, offers it to Bucky just like they clasped hands after their tough love heart to heart back in Delacroix, before Bucky had to leave to deal with the rest of his list, and Sam had to invest time in training with the shield. ]

You keep finding me when I need it. Promise I'll make that a bit easier on you in the future. You gonna allow me to do the same for you?