[He runs hot. He knows that. With the serum coursing through his veins, it's inevitable. And yet Sam's touch on his waist is searing, in a lot of way. A welcome weight that scorches his skin in a way that he's quickly come to associate with the way that Sam shares affection so openly with him. Those careful touches; a hand on the shoulder, a pat on the back. A hug. An arm holding him in place, keeping the two of them close.
Between Sam's actions and his words, Bucky really has no idea why he ever thought it was a good idea to try and throw it all away by coming here.
So as much as he hadn't expected Sam to suddenly take it all back, the confirmation hits him hard. Has him catching his breath as he gaze shifts away momentarily. It's the hint of a smile that curls at the corner of his lips that give away just how that reaffirmation is affecting him. That proves just how grateful he is that even after those six months of radio silence, Sam never gave up on him.]
Might have to hold you to that.
[There's no context though. Not right away. Not when it's taking everything in him to simply look back at Sam again. It's only the fact that he knows that the good technically outweighs the bad here that gets him to continue speaking.]
Ask me why I'm here.
[What his regret is. The very question that'd dogged them both when they'd first arrived. He may have hidden the truth from Sam for a while. But it hadn't taken long for the man to figure it out for himself. Had been easy enough for him to piece it all together and realize that this was meant as a one-way trip for Bucky.
But things have change now, and he's more than ready to let Sam know how much.]
[ It's so easy to fold into Bucky. During their stay on Braccia, sharing the same bed had gone from a nuisance to something incredibly welcome quickly - the truth is that Sam found himself enjoying that warmth and that closeness. And that still holds true now. Bucky radiates warmth, and Sam feels so very drawn to it. ]
Because you're a hopeless cuddler.
[ It's a dry tease - Sam pretending to tell Bucky he's here in Sam's bed because he likes to cuddle, to dodge the implicit request for Sam to ask why Bucky is on Ximilia Station. He knows - Bucky himself hinted at it strongly enough. Doesn't take a genius, just someone who knows the man, who bothers paying attention.
Sam's eyes search Bucky's face. Registers that hint of a smile, and is lost for a moment on why Bucky would be this cruel to want to talk about it now, when Sam still feels cut open raw from losing Steve and Natasha a second time.
The easy answer that comes immediately is, of course: Bucky is not that cruel, therefore something else is up. Sam's fingers trace small circles, contemplative. Then, careful and hesistant: ]
I've already forgiven you. Why are you here, Buck?
cw: violence/murder/assassination/idk it's a little graphic in places though
[He cuts himself off abruptly. Not because of his own feelings of guilt. Those are deeply ingrained, and something he's had to learn to live with these past five (ten) years. Rather, it's because he knows how Sam feels about that blame. Knows that he needs to make that same effort in turn to remember that-]
The night the Winter Soldier killed Howard and Maria Stark.
[Because he may have been the one to cause the crash. The one to beat Howard to death, to cave in his skull and squeeze the last vestiges of life from Maria's lungs. His hands are still covered in their blood, and their pleas may echo in his nightmares. But he knows, even if he doesn't entirely believe it yet, that he was a victim in all of this too. That there wasn't anything he could do to prevent it from happening the way it did.
Until now, that is. Until his agreement with the orbs this very night.]
I switched my regret. M'here to change that night.
[ It slips out small and soft, on a shake of Sam's voice, when Bucky corrects himself to the Winter Soldier. It's quiet, barely audible, because he's not interrupting him - just needs to fit encouragement into the small space between them. Wants to give Bucky nothing but encouragement for even this small correction, because it matters. Even if he can't believe it yet, changing the language matters. Make amends, because even a victim is allowed to feel guilty for what they were made to do, but it's important to acknowledge that's what he is, too - another victim. And Sam is proud of him for correcting himself, for putting the distance between himself and the Winter Soldier. Sam will never tell Bucky he doesn't need to feel guilty, or try to blanket him with reassurances of 'it wasn't you' - because that is not helpful for Bucky's recovery, when the guilt sits in his chest either way. Sam's not his therapist - but he's his friend, his partner, and his family. He's the support network.
The rest of Bucky's words settle over Sam, leaving him in stunned silence, trying to keep up and process what Bucky's saying. Fists his hand in Bucky's shirt with a shaky breath, because oh.
And there are question. There's the other shoe,and it's gonna drop, Sam knows that. Understands it. This ain't that easy. But it's something. It matters. Bucky changed his mind on what he wants to undo, and that means Bucky's intending to come home.
Sam doesn't notice that a tear slides over his cheek, eyes unable to slide away from Bucky's, dark brown swimming with painfully sharp relief. ]
You're coming home.
[ Sam nods, affirming that as a statement, because he understands that. Bucky asking if he still has a place with Sam. If Sam meant what he said about him being family. God. Fuck. And that's a gift. Ximilia Station, though... the orbs... nothing comes for free. So Sam holds on to that dizzying relief, holds on to Bucky much too tightly, and doesn't avert his eyes. ]
[He may not have been seeking it, but Sam's words come as a comfort. That reminder that he hasn't made a mistake in renegotiating his contract here. That he really does have something waiting for him when they finally leave this station.
Granted, Sam doesn't know all the details yet. Doesn't know about the risk that comes with the newest cost. Doesn't realize just how dangerous it is now for them to be sharing a room, yet alone a bed. He'd heard the words during their first mission. If it happens here and Sam is left standing in his way-
He wants to reach back. Wants to be able to brush that tear away. To wrap his own arm around Sam and offer up some kind of comfort in return. But with his real arm trapped beneath him, he's never been more aware of just how much of a risk it is to use his left. How wrong it is to touch Sam with the same hand that's taken so many lives already.
(That will undoubtedly end up taking so many more, soon.)
As for the prompt-]
Gonna need to make a detour to Wakanda first.
[Assuming he'll be allowed back. Shuri may have been willing to talk to him here. But things will be different back home. There's a whole nation who's still feeling the loss of T'Chaka to this day. A nation who know first hand just what Zemo did. After helping the man escape prison, there really is no reason for him to be allowed back in again. Especially now that he's betrayed them a second time by undoing all the work that Shuri and Ayo made with him.]
It won't be safe for me to be around your family till I do.
[ The arm around Bucky's waist shifts immediately, out of instinct more than anything else, until his fingers can lightly brush over vibranium. Just a little, over the back of the hand and the wrist. Sam doesn't force more contact, doesn't grab or hold, searching Bucky's face instead. But it's instinct at this point, to offer a small point of contact. He's made a point of that since Madripoor, to make sure not to treat the vibranium arm like a weapon, but instead like what it is: Bucky's prosthetic. ]
Something wrong with your arm?
[ He doesn't doubt that Shuri would come through for Bucky - and Sam himself would move everything he could to help that along, too. ]
We'll get that taken care of, if you're worried about anything.
Ain't something either of us get a say over. Not this time.
[While Shuri and Ayo may have been the ones responsible for removing his conditioning, he knows the decision to allow him back within the borders of Wakanda sits firmly with T'Challa. Ayo had warned him off returning for a reason. And while he knows that they wouldn't turn him away when it could very well mean that he could truly become a threat to others, Bucky doesn't want to force them in to a situation like that. Doesn't want them to feel as though they have no option but to let him go back.
He knows what he did. Knows that he deserves to be held accountable for helping their father's killer escape prison.]
Viveca gave me the code to the stronger meds. I need you to start carrying a tranq.
[Just in case. Because of all the people on this station, Sam's the one who's most at risk. Not because he can't hold his own against the Winter Soldier. Rather, it's because he isn't blind to just how much Sam cares about him. Just how much effort he puts in to maintaining their friendship. He isn't going to take him down if he can help it. So knocking him out is the next best thing.]
Buck, I'm gonna need you to tell me what the hell is going on.
[ He's forcing himself to stay calm, but an edge of worry is creeping into his voice. Bucky's talking about changing his regret, about coming back home, but also about not being safe to be around, about Sam needing to carry tranquilizers.
And maybe part of him knows, dread settling low in his guts, because even with Bucky's low perspective on himself, there are few things about him that would warrant this.
Sam's hand curls around Bucky's shoulder, holds on to him tightly. ]
[There's a small quirk of his lips at the question. Amusement that doesn't quite sit right. As much as he'd like to reassure Sam right now that everything will be fine, he isn't about to lie to him. Not about this. Not when he knows how dangerous his deal really is. So few people on this station know about the Winter Soldier. Even less have met him. If something goes wrong and he's triggered here...]
The only way to change my regret was to make a deal.
[To pay a cost far beyond something he'd willingly give. But the alternative meant his own death. And while it's a debt he'd still willingly pay if it meant undoing even one of the mean deaths he's responsible for, the offer was too tempting to ignore.]
Ten words and he's back again. And there's nothing I can do about it.
[Not until he manages to contact Shuri again. Not until he's allowed back in to Wakanda and her lab once more.]
Fuck. Sam freezes for a moment, searching Bucky's eyes for the truth he already knows he'll see there. This is nothing Bucky would take lightly, and Sam finds himself sucking in a slow, thin breath, trying to sort out the rolling thoughts in his own mind. This is bad, and he can't help the way his eyes widen when he realizes that Bucky considered this a worthwhile trade. To change his regret so he'd survive, so he'd be able to come back home, even with the thread of everything he tried so hard to overcome getting resurrected looming over him. And that knowledge catches in his throat for a moment, makes him swallow hard before he wraps his arm back around Bucky, pulls the two of them closer together still.
Sam glances down a little for a moment, contemplates, and then looks back up, settles his gaze onto Bucky's eyes steadfast. ]
Tranqs.
[ Easy agreement. They can get this fixed once they're home again. Sam refuses to believe that the Wakandans wouldn't help Bucky with this a second time. No matter what Bucky believes, no matter how harshly he'd punish himself, Sam refuses to believe Shuri would be that unkind to him. And Sam makes a promise himself: ]
I will do anything in my power not to let him hurt anyone, Bucky. But I need you to understand that if I put myself in his way to stop him in his tracks, any bruise I end up with is not on you. I need you to know that you and I are and will be good, and I count you among the people we're gonna try to keep safe from the Soldier.
[He's already expecting Sam to say something along those lines. Which is why his own response comes quickly. Why he ends up pulling out of Sam's hold just enough for him to sit upright instead. It means having to slide a leg free from the covers. The one thing keeping him from falling out with the newly added distance. But it's needed as he stares back at Sam. Needs that space so he can focus on the bigger issue here.]
That ain't what I asked you.
[Not even close. Sure, he doesn't like the idea of losing control like that. Hates just how much more of a threat he is to the people on the station now. But of all the people here that he could end up hurting, it's Sam who he's most concerned about. And for the exact reason that he's just pointed out.
Winter Soldier or not, he'd be the one responsible if Sam tries to stop him. The only one to blame for any injury that he may get in the process. Bucky's the one who gave the Winter Soldier power again. So the idea of Sam stepping in to the fray, of him risking his safety like that, leaves a hollow feeling in his chest. A pit of dread caused by all the what if's that run through his mind.
He's killed so many people. Hurt so many more. Sam's already been on that list before. He can't do that to him again.]
I get triggered, you either tranq me, or you get out of there. Those are the only options.
[ Sam stays still and lets Bucky get it out, make the request he needs. Then, and only then does he sit up slowly. Reaches out, and smoothes his hand over Bucky's shoulder, fingers steady on the back of his neck, exactly where they sat when they walked away from the view of of the sunset all those many months ago.
His other hand, after a moment, slides around Bucky's middle, settles on his waist. Offers a hold if Bucky wants it. And gentle contact if he doesn't. ]
Hey.
[ Gentle. ]
I don't want either of us to lose the other to this, Buck.
[ He leans in a little, chases that eye contact.
He'll put Bucky down with a tranq no issue. Maybe he can outfit Redwing with tranquilizers, too. The other part... Bucky's asking Sam to avoid getting hurt by the Winter Soldier, but potentially let others get hurt, if he fails to put him down.
But Sam also recognizes the haunted look in Bucky's eyes. Feels the way it twists at his own insides, and understands that hurting him would hit different for Bucky than hurting someone else. So Sam breathes out slow, then shifts closer still, leans his forehead against Bucky's, field of vision reduced to those bright blue eyes. Swallows hard - could never say no when Bucky asked 'do this for me'. ]
You get triggered, I tranq you. Failing that, I get out of dodge. He ain't gonna get a chance to hurt me. You ain't ever gonna be the one to hurt me.
[While he doesn't lean in to the touch, he doesn't back away from it either. Not yet. Instead, he simply listens in silence. Keeps his eyes on Sam as he finds the confirmation he wants. The reassurances that he needs. And even after the words stop, all Bucky does is just...stare back at the man. Until suddenly-
There's a hitch in his breath. A heavy inhale as the words finally sink in. The truth of it all hitting him hard.
He'd made a mistake when he first came here. When he's sought out the opportunity to wipe himself from the history books in exchange for his service here. He'd been so willing to throw away everything. To lose all the progress he begrudgingly admits he's made. To turn his back on the only real friend he has left. The family that's been opened up to him. He would have willingly given it all up, just so he could take the cowardly way out.
And now, he's given up a part of himself. Given up his autonomy. His freedom. But the cost is worth it if it means he's able to keep ahold of this. His headache-inducing, pain in the ass best friend. His family, and the only thing that keeps him grounded in the twenty-first century.
When he finally lets his breath back out again, his energy practically drains alongside it. He ends up relaxing in to Sam's hold at last. Ends up finally breaking his stare as slumps against Sam, his face hidden in the crook of his neck. His arms don't move though, despite just how much he wants to reach out and take the comfort that's being offered. Sam may not judge him for it. May not see it as a weakness. But knowing that still doesn't make it any easier to accept what Sam so freely offers.]
[ The truth is that Sam doesn't let people this close, not anymore. Keeps even his loved ones at arm's length. Hugs, sure. But this is something else. Holding someone in the dark, emotions coiled painfully tight. Needing to be in someone's space, close enough to breathe in sync.
Sam tightens his hold on Bucky for a moment, lets him feel how good this can be. Wants to tell him without words: I got you. I'm not letting go, no matter what. Wishes, desperately, the offer had never been made to either of them to begin with. But they're here, and Bucky's given up his autonomy and freedom to be able to come back home with Sam one day. It's gonna be hard, having this over their head constantly. It's gonna be hard to go back home, to have to find a way for the Wakandans to help Bucky again. But Sam's determined. Won't let Bucky live his life under constant fear of this hanging over his head, constantly worrying that someone, somewhere unearthes the trigger words and uses them. Bucky deserves better than this, even if he doesn't believe it. Deserves the freedom to relax, to smile, to roughhouse with Sam over the remote control, play fight with shrieking, delighted kids, walk around Delacroix in a stupidly tight t-shirt and never worry about what people think about his metal arm.
Sam's hand drifts over Bucky's shoulder and down his arm. Tugs, gently. Bucky deserves people reaching out to him - and he deserves to be able to reach back without fear. So without letting him go, without loosening his own hold on Bucky, Sam gently tugs one arm around his own middle, if Bucky lets him, then the other.
Whispers in his ear, quiet and soft: ]
Please.
[ Please hold me back. Please let me give this to you. Please don't be afraid with me, ever. ]
I want you to.
[ You're free to, even now. Especially now.
Anything Bucky could possibly want, Sam will give to him, because it breaks his heart to see his best friend like this, to know just what has been taken from him, what threat is looming over him again. To know that right now, here, there is no fixing it. There is only learning to carry it again, and knowing that even if Bucky as a person is not a danger, not a threat, he now once again carries something inside of him that will strip him of his agency and make him a threat against his will. Sam swallows, feels his own breath threatening to catch. And knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Bucky would never, could never him. ]
[There's no resistance against Sam's prompting, his limbs loose and easy to maneuver. But even as his arms are wrapped around Sam's waist, even as hes offered up the comfort he's only recently come to understand is open to him, Bucky doesn't move. Doesn't do anything more that stay perfectly still.
Until the request comes.
Then, his arms move, his hold tightening around Sam's body. His fingers end up twisted in the fabric of his shirt, the space between them disappearing in its entirety as he shifts closer. As he give Sam exactly what he's asking for. (As he takes exactly what he needs.)
The fact that Sam is willing to give him this still means more to him that he could ever truly explain. Their friendship has been a decade in the making, has involved more than one attempt on Sam's life. A shared loss of the one person who connected them. Six months of silence, followed by weeks of arguing and fighting. Walker, the Flagsmashers, Zemo. And still, Sam had given him yet another chance. Had opened up his home, his family, and let him in close. And here he is, doing exactly the same thing. Putting his own safety on the line, for a man who once tried to kill him.
He sure as hell hasn't done anything in his life to deserve to have a person like Sam in it. But he's willing to do whatever it takes to earn it now.]
Ain't going anywhere.
[His words are equally as quiet, a whispered response against Sam's neck. There's a reason he'd had the conversation with Viveca that night. A reason he'd gone to bed with the express purpose of speaking with the orbs. Of changing his regret, no matter how much it may have cost him to do it. And that reason is Sam.]
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Between Sam's actions and his words, Bucky really has no idea why he ever thought it was a good idea to try and throw it all away by coming here.
So as much as he hadn't expected Sam to suddenly take it all back, the confirmation hits him hard. Has him catching his breath as he gaze shifts away momentarily. It's the hint of a smile that curls at the corner of his lips that give away just how that reaffirmation is affecting him. That proves just how grateful he is that even after those six months of radio silence, Sam never gave up on him.]
Might have to hold you to that.
[There's no context though. Not right away. Not when it's taking everything in him to simply look back at Sam again. It's only the fact that he knows that the good technically outweighs the bad here that gets him to continue speaking.]
Ask me why I'm here.
[What his regret is. The very question that'd dogged them both when they'd first arrived. He may have hidden the truth from Sam for a while. But it hadn't taken long for the man to figure it out for himself. Had been easy enough for him to piece it all together and realize that this was meant as a one-way trip for Bucky.
But things have change now, and he's more than ready to let Sam know how much.]
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Because you're a hopeless cuddler.
[ It's a dry tease - Sam pretending to tell Bucky he's here in Sam's bed because he likes to cuddle, to dodge the implicit request for Sam to ask why Bucky is on Ximilia Station. He knows - Bucky himself hinted at it strongly enough. Doesn't take a genius, just someone who knows the man, who bothers paying attention.
Sam's eyes search Bucky's face. Registers that hint of a smile, and is lost for a moment on why Bucky would be this cruel to want to talk about it now, when Sam still feels cut open raw from losing Steve and Natasha a second time.
The easy answer that comes immediately is, of course: Bucky is not that cruel, therefore something else is up. Sam's fingers trace small circles, contemplative. Then, careful and hesistant: ]
I've already forgiven you. Why are you here, Buck?
cw: violence/murder/assassination/idk it's a little graphic in places though
[He cuts himself off abruptly. Not because of his own feelings of guilt. Those are deeply ingrained, and something he's had to learn to live with these past five (ten) years. Rather, it's because he knows how Sam feels about that blame. Knows that he needs to make that same effort in turn to remember that-]
The night the Winter Soldier killed Howard and Maria Stark.
[Because he may have been the one to cause the crash. The one to beat Howard to death, to cave in his skull and squeeze the last vestiges of life from Maria's lungs. His hands are still covered in their blood, and their pleas may echo in his nightmares. But he knows, even if he doesn't entirely believe it yet, that he was a victim in all of this too. That there wasn't anything he could do to prevent it from happening the way it did.
Until now, that is. Until his agreement with the orbs this very night.]
I switched my regret. M'here to change that night.
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[ It slips out small and soft, on a shake of Sam's voice, when Bucky corrects himself to the Winter Soldier. It's quiet, barely audible, because he's not interrupting him - just needs to fit encouragement into the small space between them. Wants to give Bucky nothing but encouragement for even this small correction, because it matters. Even if he can't believe it yet, changing the language matters. Make amends, because even a victim is allowed to feel guilty for what they were made to do, but it's important to acknowledge that's what he is, too - another victim. And Sam is proud of him for correcting himself, for putting the distance between himself and the Winter Soldier. Sam will never tell Bucky he doesn't need to feel guilty, or try to blanket him with reassurances of 'it wasn't you' - because that is not helpful for Bucky's recovery, when the guilt sits in his chest either way. Sam's not his therapist - but he's his friend, his partner, and his family. He's the support network.
The rest of Bucky's words settle over Sam, leaving him in stunned silence, trying to keep up and process what Bucky's saying. Fists his hand in Bucky's shirt with a shaky breath, because oh.
And there are question. There's the other shoe,and it's gonna drop, Sam knows that. Understands it. This ain't that easy. But it's something. It matters. Bucky changed his mind on what he wants to undo, and that means Bucky's intending to come home.
Sam doesn't notice that a tear slides over his cheek, eyes unable to slide away from Bucky's, dark brown swimming with painfully sharp relief. ]
You're coming home.
[ Sam nods, affirming that as a statement, because he understands that. Bucky asking if he still has a place with Sam. If Sam meant what he said about him being family. God. Fuck. And that's a gift. Ximilia Station, though... the orbs... nothing comes for free. So Sam holds on to that dizzying relief, holds on to Bucky much too tightly, and doesn't avert his eyes. ]
But...?
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Granted, Sam doesn't know all the details yet. Doesn't know about the risk that comes with the newest cost. Doesn't realize just how dangerous it is now for them to be sharing a room, yet alone a bed. He'd heard the words during their first mission. If it happens here and Sam is left standing in his way-
He wants to reach back. Wants to be able to brush that tear away. To wrap his own arm around Sam and offer up some kind of comfort in return. But with his real arm trapped beneath him, he's never been more aware of just how much of a risk it is to use his left. How wrong it is to touch Sam with the same hand that's taken so many lives already.
(That will undoubtedly end up taking so many more, soon.)
As for the prompt-]
Gonna need to make a detour to Wakanda first.
[Assuming he'll be allowed back. Shuri may have been willing to talk to him here. But things will be different back home. There's a whole nation who's still feeling the loss of T'Chaka to this day. A nation who know first hand just what Zemo did. After helping the man escape prison, there really is no reason for him to be allowed back in again. Especially now that he's betrayed them a second time by undoing all the work that Shuri and Ayo made with him.]
It won't be safe for me to be around your family till I do.
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Something wrong with your arm?
[ He doesn't doubt that Shuri would come through for Bucky - and Sam himself would move everything he could to help that along, too. ]
We'll get that taken care of, if you're worried about anything.
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[While Shuri and Ayo may have been the ones responsible for removing his conditioning, he knows the decision to allow him back within the borders of Wakanda sits firmly with T'Challa. Ayo had warned him off returning for a reason. And while he knows that they wouldn't turn him away when it could very well mean that he could truly become a threat to others, Bucky doesn't want to force them in to a situation like that. Doesn't want them to feel as though they have no option but to let him go back.
He knows what he did. Knows that he deserves to be held accountable for helping their father's killer escape prison.]
Viveca gave me the code to the stronger meds. I need you to start carrying a tranq.
[Just in case. Because of all the people on this station, Sam's the one who's most at risk. Not because he can't hold his own against the Winter Soldier. Rather, it's because he isn't blind to just how much Sam cares about him. Just how much effort he puts in to maintaining their friendship. He isn't going to take him down if he can help it. So knocking him out is the next best thing.]
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Buck, I'm gonna need you to tell me what the hell is going on.
[ He's forcing himself to stay calm, but an edge of worry is creeping into his voice. Bucky's talking about changing his regret, about coming back home, but also about not being safe to be around, about Sam needing to carry tranquilizers.
And maybe part of him knows, dread settling low in his guts, because even with Bucky's low perspective on himself, there are few things about him that would warrant this.
Sam's hand curls around Bucky's shoulder, holds on to him tightly. ]
What did this place do to you?
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The only way to change my regret was to make a deal.
[To pay a cost far beyond something he'd willingly give. But the alternative meant his own death. And while it's a debt he'd still willingly pay if it meant undoing even one of the mean deaths he's responsible for, the offer was too tempting to ignore.]
Ten words and he's back again. And there's nothing I can do about it.
[Not until he manages to contact Shuri again. Not until he's allowed back in to Wakanda and her lab once more.]
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Fuck. Sam freezes for a moment, searching Bucky's eyes for the truth he already knows he'll see there. This is nothing Bucky would take lightly, and Sam finds himself sucking in a slow, thin breath, trying to sort out the rolling thoughts in his own mind. This is bad, and he can't help the way his eyes widen when he realizes that Bucky considered this a worthwhile trade. To change his regret so he'd survive, so he'd be able to come back home, even with the thread of everything he tried so hard to overcome getting resurrected looming over him. And that knowledge catches in his throat for a moment, makes him swallow hard before he wraps his arm back around Bucky, pulls the two of them closer together still.
Sam glances down a little for a moment, contemplates, and then looks back up, settles his gaze onto Bucky's eyes steadfast. ]
Tranqs.
[ Easy agreement. They can get this fixed once they're home again. Sam refuses to believe that the Wakandans wouldn't help Bucky with this a second time. No matter what Bucky believes, no matter how harshly he'd punish himself, Sam refuses to believe Shuri would be that unkind to him. And Sam makes a promise himself: ]
I will do anything in my power not to let him hurt anyone, Bucky. But I need you to understand that if I put myself in his way to stop him in his tracks, any bruise I end up with is not on you. I need you to know that you and I are and will be good, and I count you among the people we're gonna try to keep safe from the Soldier.
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That ain't what I asked you.
[Not even close. Sure, he doesn't like the idea of losing control like that. Hates just how much more of a threat he is to the people on the station now. But of all the people here that he could end up hurting, it's Sam who he's most concerned about. And for the exact reason that he's just pointed out.
Winter Soldier or not, he'd be the one responsible if Sam tries to stop him. The only one to blame for any injury that he may get in the process. Bucky's the one who gave the Winter Soldier power again. So the idea of Sam stepping in to the fray, of him risking his safety like that, leaves a hollow feeling in his chest. A pit of dread caused by all the what if's that run through his mind.
He's killed so many people. Hurt so many more. Sam's already been on that list before. He can't do that to him again.]
I get triggered, you either tranq me, or you get out of there. Those are the only options.
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[ Sam stays still and lets Bucky get it out, make the request he needs. Then, and only then does he sit up slowly. Reaches out, and smoothes his hand over Bucky's shoulder, fingers steady on the back of his neck, exactly where they sat when they walked away from the view of of the sunset all those many months ago.
His other hand, after a moment, slides around Bucky's middle, settles on his waist. Offers a hold if Bucky wants it. And gentle contact if he doesn't. ]
Hey.
[ Gentle. ]
I don't want either of us to lose the other to this, Buck.
[ He leans in a little, chases that eye contact.
He'll put Bucky down with a tranq no issue. Maybe he can outfit Redwing with tranquilizers, too. The other part... Bucky's asking Sam to avoid getting hurt by the Winter Soldier, but potentially let others get hurt, if he fails to put him down.
But Sam also recognizes the haunted look in Bucky's eyes. Feels the way it twists at his own insides, and understands that hurting him would hit different for Bucky than hurting someone else. So Sam breathes out slow, then shifts closer still, leans his forehead against Bucky's, field of vision reduced to those bright blue eyes. Swallows hard - could never say no when Bucky asked 'do this for me'. ]
You get triggered, I tranq you. Failing that, I get out of dodge. He ain't gonna get a chance to hurt me. You ain't ever gonna be the one to hurt me.
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There's a hitch in his breath. A heavy inhale as the words finally sink in. The truth of it all hitting him hard.
He'd made a mistake when he first came here. When he's sought out the opportunity to wipe himself from the history books in exchange for his service here. He'd been so willing to throw away everything. To lose all the progress he begrudgingly admits he's made. To turn his back on the only real friend he has left. The family that's been opened up to him. He would have willingly given it all up, just so he could take the cowardly way out.
And now, he's given up a part of himself. Given up his autonomy. His freedom. But the cost is worth it if it means he's able to keep ahold of this. His headache-inducing, pain in the ass best friend. His family, and the only thing that keeps him grounded in the twenty-first century.
When he finally lets his breath back out again, his energy practically drains alongside it. He ends up relaxing in to Sam's hold at last. Ends up finally breaking his stare as slumps against Sam, his face hidden in the crook of his neck. His arms don't move though, despite just how much he wants to reach out and take the comfort that's being offered. Sam may not judge him for it. May not see it as a weakness. But knowing that still doesn't make it any easier to accept what Sam so freely offers.]
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Sam tightens his hold on Bucky for a moment, lets him feel how good this can be. Wants to tell him without words: I got you. I'm not letting go, no matter what. Wishes, desperately, the offer had never been made to either of them to begin with. But they're here, and Bucky's given up his autonomy and freedom to be able to come back home with Sam one day. It's gonna be hard, having this over their head constantly. It's gonna be hard to go back home, to have to find a way for the Wakandans to help Bucky again. But Sam's determined. Won't let Bucky live his life under constant fear of this hanging over his head, constantly worrying that someone, somewhere unearthes the trigger words and uses them. Bucky deserves better than this, even if he doesn't believe it. Deserves the freedom to relax, to smile, to roughhouse with Sam over the remote control, play fight with shrieking, delighted kids, walk around Delacroix in a stupidly tight t-shirt and never worry about what people think about his metal arm.
Sam's hand drifts over Bucky's shoulder and down his arm. Tugs, gently. Bucky deserves people reaching out to him - and he deserves to be able to reach back without fear. So without letting him go, without loosening his own hold on Bucky, Sam gently tugs one arm around his own middle, if Bucky lets him, then the other.
Whispers in his ear, quiet and soft: ]
Please.
[ Please hold me back. Please let me give this to you. Please don't be afraid with me, ever. ]
I want you to.
[ You're free to, even now. Especially now.
Anything Bucky could possibly want, Sam will give to him, because it breaks his heart to see his best friend like this, to know just what has been taken from him, what threat is looming over him again. To know that right now, here, there is no fixing it. There is only learning to carry it again, and knowing that even if Bucky as a person is not a danger, not a threat, he now once again carries something inside of him that will strip him of his agency and make him a threat against his will. Sam swallows, feels his own breath threatening to catch. And knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Bucky would never, could never him. ]
I need you, too.
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Until the request comes.
Then, his arms move, his hold tightening around Sam's body. His fingers end up twisted in the fabric of his shirt, the space between them disappearing in its entirety as he shifts closer. As he give Sam exactly what he's asking for. (As he takes exactly what he needs.)
The fact that Sam is willing to give him this still means more to him that he could ever truly explain. Their friendship has been a decade in the making, has involved more than one attempt on Sam's life. A shared loss of the one person who connected them. Six months of silence, followed by weeks of arguing and fighting. Walker, the Flagsmashers, Zemo. And still, Sam had given him yet another chance. Had opened up his home, his family, and let him in close. And here he is, doing exactly the same thing. Putting his own safety on the line, for a man who once tried to kill him.
He sure as hell hasn't done anything in his life to deserve to have a person like Sam in it. But he's willing to do whatever it takes to earn it now.]
Ain't going anywhere.
[His words are equally as quiet, a whispered response against Sam's neck. There's a reason he'd had the conversation with Viveca that night. A reason he'd gone to bed with the express purpose of speaking with the orbs. Of changing his regret, no matter how much it may have cost him to do it. And that reason is Sam.]
Not anymore.