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When Sam Wilson met the Winter Soldier for the first time, he was terrified. Truly terrified. But you can't blame him, considering that their hostage, Jasper Sitwell, has been brutally thrown out of the car window, his goddamn steering wheel was ripped out and his car fucking exploded within 20 seconds at max by the hand of one mighty man, right?
Sam remembers getting up and seeing all those men in black gear, armed with guns, knives, rocket launchers and what goddamn else- and watching the Winter Soldier scanning the area beneath the bridge. His whole posture calm and collected, aiming carefully and his back just slightly tensing while shooting his rifle. One move too loud to hear and he would have been done, he thought. One shift of his arm or his leg and all of those men would have turned to him and his sister and his nephews would attend a funeral with an empty coffin. Luckily, that didn't happen after all.
It probably took him a minute to gather his mind, get up and assist Steve and Natasha by silently taking out the other HYDRA agents while the Winter Soldier himself was too caught up with chasing after the redheaded woman.
Even hours after they got caught, rescued by Agent Hill and debriefed by Director Fury, Sam still thought about his encounter with the assassin who most likely didn't even pay more attention to his lucky ass. He was somehow impressed by his honed skills with guns and knives, how he flawlessly moved and killed like it was the only reason he was born. Yet, at the same time, it terrified him.
As it turned out, it was Steve's childhood friend and war buddy that died in 1945- oh great, another super soldier- and Sam couldn't help himself but get further and further involved by helping Captain America trying to get his friend back.
In the end, it went from chasing him, fighting him, fighting Tony and his team with him, putting him into cryo in Wakanda, reuniting with him, fighting again but Aliens this time (Sam still doesn't fully understand what the hell even happened but it was about saving Earth and the whole goddamn universe so of course he fought), dying by a shiny gauntlet with stones and a purple brute, being reborn and fighting Aliens again to… whatever this was now.
Looking back, it was absolutely unbelievable that the assassin from the bridge was the same guy that stood in his kitchen cooking alongside his sister. If anyone would have told Sam that 7 years ago, he would have laughed at them. Now though?
Bucky chopped the vegetables the way he shot a gun. Precisely and without hesitation. But he looked way happier doing it. He hummed lightly to the playing music from the living room Sam was sitting in.
So he had actually listened to Marvin Gaye, at least once.
Sam himself was not a bad cook, he'd say. He knew the essentials and a small variety of recipes for breakfast, lunch and supper. But Bucky? He moved flawlessly through the kitchen once Sarah explained to him where he found the ingredients he needed and remembered the places well enough if he needed something else. He chopped the vegetables, stirred whatever was in the pan, added flavors and- he looked at peace.
It was odd seeing him like this. He didn't have that crease on his forehead, he didn't stare like he planned to murder the next person that stepped into the house, his back was relaxed and his whole posture was calm. Somehow, it calmed Sam too. It didn't make his mind wander back to the shield in his room upstairs.
Bucky and Sarah talked silently with each other and once in a while, they smiled and laughed. It distracted Sam from his actual work- doing research on the Flag Smashers activity with the information Torres has sent him. It already felt like deadend, Sam could say. Karli and her friends are off the grid. They seem to have a very good hacker in their lines.
He turned off his Laptop when Sarah called him and the boys.
"Dinner's ready, put the plates on the table!"
AJ and Cass stormed down and prepared the table.
"They're good boys, aren't they?" heard Sam say and he looked towards the kitchen where Sarah started laughing again.
Sam couldn't put it into words but it felt somehow domestic. Like things should be like this.
___
Dinner was comfortable. AJ and Cass talked for the most part, something about the new game they're playing. Sam didn't pay attention much as his eyes were mostly focused on Bucky. No, he wasn't starring. But the veteran seemed absent, somehow even lost.
But the soup was - surprisingly- good. Onion soup with self made croutons. Everyone enjoyed it, Sarah seemed genuinely impressed after being a bit wary of him after his arrival. Well, the metal arm was beautiful but the power within was frightening.
The boys finished first, put their dishes back into the kitchen and went upstairs again with: "Thank you, uncle Bucky!"
Mentioned man smiled slightly and stood up as well, taking Sam's and Sarah's dishes with him.
"You don't have to wash the plates, Bucky! You've done enough by cooking and repairing the boat!" Sarah called, standing up as well.
"No worries, I'll be fine. Can't take your hostility for granted right? I gotta do my part as well" He smiled again and got back to filling the sink with water.
"I'll help him, go and get the boys to bed. It was an exciting day and we'll need them tomorrow" Sam patted her shoulder and moved to the kitchen counter. Sarah nodded, spared them one more look and followed her sons.
Bucky's hands moved thoughtfully with the porcelain in the flesh hand and soapy sponge in the metal one. He watched spellbound. Just as he watched two days ago the same hands shooting guns, handling knives and fists smashing into body's.
"Thought you wanted to help me, Samuel"
"Please stop calling me that" Sam snatched a towel from the rack nearby and started drying the tableware that piled up next to the sink.
"Since when do they even call you uncle Bucky?"
"Well, maybe I am just cooler than you. Guess you'll have to move out" he shrugged slightly.
Sam simply shaked his head but smiled all the same. The simple banter was nice, nothing serious, nothing actually hurting each other.
"How come you know how to cook that well?"
The veterans movements stopped. He shifted awkwardly, his shoulders tensed but picked again the dishes up.
"You know, I had a life before I enlisted." -long sigh- "I've not always been an assassin or a soldier."
Oh. Right.
"M'sorry."
Bucky shrugged it off and they finished cleaning the dishes in silence not long after. He stayed at the counter watching his hands, lost in thought.
_____
While Sam went upstairs to get his companion a blanket and more comfortable cushions, he couldn't get his mind off the soldier. He noticed how many times Bucky actually smiled today - of course he did, his genuine smile was adorable. He never saw him before this relaxed, not even in Wakanda.
But now during dinner? It was like the former assassin was disconnected from reality, not actually present. He looked sad.
He picked up an old blanket and whatever else he needed for the man downstairs to be comfortable. Which most likely wasn't even hard to achieve, since he has slept so far always on the floor, no matter if it was a hotel, Sharon's apartment in Madripoor or Zemo's housing in Riga.
Of course, he knew what it felt like to return and not being able to fall asleep on a bed. They were like marshmallows but uncomfortable all the same. There was the constant uncertainty of falling through the blankets and being attacked. Of waking up from a beautiful dream and being back in the air in the front lines. It took Sam months to actually be able to sleep in his bed peacefully. Nightmares still kept him up on several nights but it definitely got better.
Sometimes, he still saw Riley falling.
But Bucky never actually recovered. His therapist had done a shitty job so far but she might have been able to help him if John Walker hadn't interfered.
Sam wondered, when was the last time the man had a decent night of sleep? He probably did not even need that, super soldiers were likely able to operate on two hours or even less sleep. But still- the bags under his eyes were visible. So he did his best to make the couch downstairs as comfortable as he could. If Bucky wakes up tonight, it will be cushions sticking to his side instead of wooden planks.
____
20 Minutes later, freshly showered and packed with bedsheets and cushions, Sam descended again, yet, the soldier was nowhere to be found. He prepared the couch as neat as he could and looked around.
His back was still there, his jacket as well and- oh, the backdoor is slightly open. A glance through the kitchen window confirmed Sam's suspicion.
He put on some slippers and sneaked out as well, slowly approaching the veteran. He sat at the docks, facing the lake. His crouched stance was tense and - was he shaking?
Normally, Bucky would have picked up the impending man by far, possibly when Sam left the house. He was not only stupidly strong but his senses are damn sharp. But right now, he seemed so caught up with whatever he held in his hand that he almost jumped when Sam stepped on some crunchy leaves. Barely two meters separated them. Buck's posture relaxed by a bit.
"You good?" Sam's voice was low but still audible for the former assassin.
"Just-" he stopped with a sniffle- a goddamn sniffle. "Just remembered something"
"You wanna talk about it?" and Bucky just shrugged and shifted a bit to the side. Sam took the invitation and sat down next to him.
Bucky looked at him for a second and held a small picture towards him, barely bigger than his palm.
On the left top was a date, 23 May 1929. There were four children, two boys and two girls, a bit dirty in their faces but smiling all the same.
Sam regarded the picture. The oldest boy seemed familiar. Round face, light eyes, dark hair- oh. He turned to Bucky whose gaze stayed on the photo in his hand. He started speaking again, quietly.
"I don't remember much of them. Everything before I enlisted is still blurry. I don't remember the face of our mother. Or her name. Or my pa's. He died a few years before the war started." Sam watched Bucky's hands twitch the way they did when he was nervous or on edge.
"Do you remember their names?" He pointed to the girl next to Bucky's younger self. He had a bat in his left hand and his right was on the girl's head.
"Rebecca. Becca. She was a whirlwind. Always running around, causing trouble-" he chuckled at her memory "-she always tried picking fights with the neighbors boys. Had to get her out always. Ma always scolded her but did she stop? No, of course not."
Bucky raised his head and looked upon the lake. Once in a while, fish jumped out of the water and the surface started drawing circles.
"She wanted to be a teacher. She'd always ask me what I learned in school. By the time I joined the military, she was 19, married and pregnant to a man she met on the market. She was happy, as far as I remember."
Sam nodded and pointed to the other girl in cuffed pants and a tank top next to Rebecca. Bucky seemed to need to talk about this. To get it out of his system. Sam gladly listened.
"Anne-Mary. We'd only call her Anne though. She ferociously hated dresses and always tried getting away by dressing like a boy. Take a good guess whose clothes those actually have been. Ma never said a thing, she just wanted us all to be happy."
Sam pointed to the boys on Bucky's left side. He was shockingly skinny and somehow, Sam expected there to be a bitter ending.
"August was the youngest of us. He tried doing everything I did. But-" Bucky sighed and his eyes closed "he died 1931. The American Healthcare system is now shit but it was way worse back then. You'd rather sell your spine than work for the money to get some medication. He was chronically sick. And the winter turned out to be bitch."
"I'm sorry"
"No need to be. It has happened almost a century ago, I've already mourned."
Thoughtful pause and another fish jumping.
"Ma taught me how to cook. Always said something like 'The easiest way to get a wife is not her heart but her stomach. You'll have a beautiful wife someday but I'll teach you how to be a respecting man, not only by working your ass off but also by supporting her with housework.'"
Sam chuckled at that. Mrs. Barnes must have been an amazing woman.
"That dinner earlier… it felt like back then. It felt like home. It felt like things should be like this. It felt like everything I've lost so far. All of the people I've disappointed."
Sam cocked his head, he did not follow Bucky continued.
"Joining the military was my responsibility for the country but in the first place, I wanted to rise among the ranks to earn enough money to support Ma and my sisters. During the war, the rents rose stupidly high and living got harder and harder. Additionally, Ma got sick and died when I was overseas. I've found out through a letter. It was the last time I heard of Becca and Anne. "
"Are your sisters still alive? Did you try reaching out to them?"
"I did some research, I've found the picture on my way. I couldn't find anything on Anne, no information if she's still alive or if she died. She disappeared. But Becca? She's still kicking. Somewhere in Illinois with her husband. She even got grandkids" Bucky chuckled sadly "I'm proud of her"
"Any way you could contact her? I'd help you with the whole Internet stuff you know?"
"I know how to use the internet just fine, thank you. Shuri showed me the most important stuff. But no, I won't talk to her. Her brother died 1945. He never got captured by the Nazis and was programmed to be a highly skilled assassin."
Bucky let a shuddering breath out and they sat in silence again for several minutes.
"You know, you can stay longer here if you'd want to. Sarah likes you and you heard the boys- you're their new uncle. You can be a part of this family…"
Sam was bold but will he ever have another chance to talk about this. No, mostly likely not. He dared to lay his left hand upon Bucky's right one that rested at his side. He squeezed with light pressure.
"I wouldn't want to disturb your idyllic life here. Anyway, I think I've been a pain in your ass for way too long now." He squeezed back.
Oh dear, your mouth and your body aren't telling the same things Bucky.
"Maybe you're the pain in my ass I got used to. Maybe I even enjoy it now."
Bucky's whole posture changed and he started laughing incredulously, dropping his head and wheezing.
Oh. Oh.
"You may be a grandpa with your 106 but your humor belongs to a thirteen year old middle schooler!" Sam stood up, slightly annoyed how the air has changed.
Bucky calmed down after a minute or so and stood up as well facing his companion. He- he smiled. It was the genuine one. The unforced one.
"Thank you Sam."
"Wait, for what?"
"For not pushing me away. For taking me in after everything I've done. For unconsciously giving me a temporary home and a family. I appreciate it."
Sam's confusion turned quickly into warmth. He stepped closer to Bucky, taking his hands in his own. Caressing the knuckles and paying extra attention to the metal one.
"Maybe I am thinking too much but this might as well turn into your actual home…"
Bucky frowned. The gears inside his head were fuming again. Sam chuckled again and leaned in.
The man's lips were softer than he anticipated. He kissed man and woman alike but most of them were rough. But Bucky's? His lips were soft and warm, moving along his own mouth after a few seconds. The cogwheels have stilled now completely.
Sam's belly felt warm when they parted to breath, foreheads resting against each other. Bucky's eyes were closed but his body showed how the kiss had affected him. The moonlight made his pale neck glow. It was stupidly adorable.
Sam tried denying himself so often, acting for the greater good but once in a while, he let himself be selfish.
"Buck, I- I cannot even put it into words how I feel right now. How I feel about you and what I wish us to be. I want you as a part of this family…"
He received a nod with a sob. Sam immediately embraced Bucky, holding him close. Hesitant arms closed around his waist. There were no tears on his collarbone but he rocked them lightly as shuddering breath escaped Bucky's mouth.
"I'd like to be a part of this family…"
Yeah, Sam definitely did not regret following Steve Roger's on his hunt on his childhood friend James Bucky Barnes.