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“What did Sharon mean by ‘Mr America’?”
The music below left vibrations running through Bucky’s boots as he pulled a borrowed jacket on over his v-neck.
“What?”
“‘You were Mister America! Cap’s best friend.’ The way she said it just didn’t sound... right, is all.” Sam shrugged, fixing the collar of his own jacket. His turtle neck hugged the length of his throat snugly, making him look sleeker than his usual grey top, brown jacket and dark slacks combo.
“Well...” Bucky shrugged. “I guess Steve and I have always been a package deal. Originally I was the deal, he was the package. Then he became Captain America and I died and... yeah. I guess now it’s just how people see us. Captain ‘Steve Rogers’ America and his best pal, Bucky.” Bucky bent down to untie his boots and re-lace them, preferring the mindless task to looking at Sam’s no doubt soulful eyes that want to pick him apart and analyse his poor broken mind.
“... I think I understand. A while after I met and joined up with Steve to search for you, people started to package me with him too. Captain America and his sidekick. Half of the people we met didn’t even know my name. They didn’t care to know when America’s sweetheart was standing right there.” The music didn’t hide the sound of Sam stepping closer as Bucky stood up from tying his shoes.
“Who didn’t love Steve? He was strong and kind and held the country’s flag with pride.” Bucky said wistfully with a touch of bitter humour, gaze fogging with emotion.
“...How am I supposed to live up to that, Buck? You can see it, right? Why I can’t take the shield.” Sam’s voice was gentle, like he was trying to sooth Bucky but it felt like alcohol on a fresh cut. Bucky scowled.
“The people would love you too, Sam. You have everything Steve had and maybe even more.”
“The people loved Steve because he didn’t challenge any of their views. He punched nazis and wore a bright costume and sent aliens back to their void. He fought amongst gods and magic and his willpower alone made him worthy to do so. Even when we became fugitives he was still adored by most of the public because he was what the public wanted the world to see as their symbol of freedom and power.” Sam bit his tongue, looking away from Bucky’s steel blue eyes as he spoke. Sam didn’t like vulnerability, as much as he advocated it in others.
“And you can do that too! You’ve been fighting by Steve’s side for years. He trusted the shield, his legacy, to you! Because he believed you would make the right choices with it. Be the symbol the world needed.” Bucky looked so earnest, so sure, as he stepped into Sam’s line of sight, trying to catch his gaze.
“The world doesn’t want me, Bucky!” Sam snapped, clenching and unclenching his fists before he shoved them in his pockets. He couldn’t let himself be angry. If he was the angry one then Bucky would be the victim in their argument and Sam couldn’t be bothered to handle that right now.
“Why wouldn’t they? Steve wanted you to take the mantle!” Bucky’s hand reached and grasped Sam’s shoulder before he could turn away, walk away from the conversation. “I wanted you to, Sam. I can’t see anyone else holding that shield. It would tear me apart — it is tearing me apart to see Walker hold it! It can’t just be a good soldier who carries its weight, it has to be a good man, and dammit Sam, you’re the best man I could hope for.” Bucky is turning and tilting his head to catch Sam’s eyes and the man just won’t let him and it makes Bucky want to scream. He huffed and cupped either side of Sam’s head, forcing the man to look at him.
“If you won’t take it, I will. That shield and you are the last parts of Steve I have. But I’m tired of fighting. It makes me sick to my stomach. If you take the mantle; I don’t have to fight anymore.” Bucky’s voice cracked, eyes watery. “And it’s selfish but I want the shield and Sam, not just Steve’s friend and Steve’s shield. If I have both with me, I don’t have to make you a part of Steve in my brain to keep from falling apart.” Bucky’s lips trembled, wanting to cry but refraining. The ache in his chest from Steve consumed every inch of his heart and lungs and some days he could barely breath without sobbing.
“You don’t think it hurts me to see Steve’s legacy passed on to someone else when I left it to be respected and remembered in that museum?” Sam’s eyes were bloodshot as he blinked rapidly, taking Bucky’s wrists in his hands and pulling them away from his head. “You don’t think I didn’t have second thoughts? I called you, Bucky! I texted and called, left voicemails, you replied to none of them! That was when I needed you to tell me to keep the shield!” Sam’s vision blurred as Bucky’s brows furrowed. “You don’t think I miss Steve? I loved him, he was my best friend, too. And he ditched both of us, and all I had left of him was you and that damn shield and neither seemed to want me!”
“Sam, I didn’t know—“
“Of course you didn’t! You never picked up. You were too busy avoiding the world, wallowing in self pity, and I spent all my time trying to make sure you weren’t, thinking maybe you needed space. But I left my hand out for you, and you didn’t take it until after I made all the choices you didn’t like!” Sam took in a shaky breath, turning away from Bucky so he could find his composure. He was falling apart at the seams and he couldn’t stitch them back again fast enough.
“I... You’re right.” Bucky finally whispered, clearing his clogged throat. “You’re right. I ran away from everything, and— and I tried to fix myself alone, and I didn’t care to think about how you were taking everything. How you were coping. You lost Nat and Steve and Tony and Vision, and probably others, in one swoop and I never thought to ask how you felt. I was a bad... friend. Person. I don’t know.” Bucky sniffled, licking his dry lips before his teeth scraped over the cracks.
“You offered me support where I offered none, and then I ignored you until I saw a reason good enough to bother you again. And it was mean, and spiteful, and stupid.” Bucky sighed, rubbing the tears from his eyes. “And I think we both waited too long to actually talk about... everything. So we didn’t. Instead we fought, and it only made things worse. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Sam.”
A long silence prevailed, tense and only interrupted by the party downstairs.
“... I was scared of what holding that shield meant, for a man like myself.” Sam whispered but Bucky heard him clearly. He stepped closer, slow and passive as he rested a gentle hand on Sam’s shoulder.
“And what would it mean? For a man like yourself?” Bucky’s thumb ran over the seam of Sam’s jacket, not crowding him but offering his presence.
“It would mean being this nations hero. It would mean carrying years oppression on my shoulders and acting like it was nothing for the ignorant folks. It would mean being in a spotlight that could catch fire at any second if I put one toe outta line as a black man. It means being the role model for young kids, black and queer, and knowing I can’t save all of them from their own communities, from the system.” Sam’s was shaking under Bucky’s hand, voice breaking as he turned into the man’s body, face hidden in leather and arms squeezing like he was trying to pop the taller man like a streamer.
“It means taking the challenge to change everything I can with the time I’d have, and knowing I’ll have pushback every step of the way. Knowing there’s a chance I could change nothing. That one wrong move on my behalf could make things so much worse for them too.” Sam sniffled into Bucky’s jacket, eyes burning with dripping tears. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried in front of anyone. It just wasn’t something he did.
Sam flinched in surprise at the touch of cool metal to the back of his head, cradling it with an almost soothing motion of petting.
“I’m sorry I asked that of you. That I still selfishly want to ask that of you. But I truly see it now. Why Steve asked you, Sam, and not me.” Bucky knocked his head lightly against Sam’s and sighed against his ear. “You fears aren’t even about what could happen to you. Your heart is so damn full of love for the people, your people, that you gave up the chance to do any damage to them, in taking up that mantle. But you wanted to, didn’t you?”
“I’ve always wanted to be a hero, Buck. Always wanted to make my family, my friends, proud. Of course I wanted to take the shield, show the world what I could do, what I could achieve. Sam Wilson, American’s sweetheart.” He laughed wryly.
“And you still could be. You doubted yourself when it came to the shield. But I don’t doubt you, Sam. I truly believe you could do good, bring happiness and pride to this country for everyone. I don’t doubt that there will be days we’re the world pushes back.”
“I don’t know if could handle that—“
“Shh, let me finish.” Bucky chuckled, closing his eyes as he breathed in Sam’s comforting aura. “When they push back, Sam, you won’t be alone. Not ever. When the world pushes back, they’ll have to answer to me too. And you’ll have me to rely on. I won’t avoid it anymore. The texts and the calls.” Bucky pulled back to look Sam in the eyes, wiping away smudged of tears from under the hero’s eyes.
“It won’t just to Sam Wilson they’ll be dealing with. It’ll be Sam and Bucky; Captain America and Mr America.” Bucky grinned, his eyes still red and cheeks blotchy, but he looked convinced. Like he believed every word he spoke.
“Dude... You made that sound so gay.” Bucky threw his hands up.
“We were having a moment! We were having a moment of history and you ruined it!” Sam laughed, clutching his stomach as he bent over in his giddiness.
“Sorry, sorry, but it made us sound married.” He wheezed out with a grin, shrugging.
“Why wasn’t it gay when it was Steve and I?”
“I mean, it kinda was, but I thought you knew that already.” Sam snickered.
“Okay, alright, ha ha, laugh it up. We had our heart to heart; does that mean you’ll reconsider taking the mantle now, or should I just... drop it again?” Bucky crossed his arms, feeling a little uncomfortable at bringing it up when the mood had picked up. But he didn’t want them to avoid the subject again and then fight all over again.
“I...” Sam took a deep breath in before sighing. “Give me time. I need— I need to think about it— again, you know?” Bucky nodded.
“Okay. I understand. I’ll— I’ll be here if you need a second opinion, okay? But other than that... I’ll leave the decision to you this time, really. It’s the least I can do.”
“Thank you, Buck.”
“Don’t mention it. Come on, we should head downstairs and keep an eye on Zemo so Sharon isn’t stuck on babysitting duty forever.” Bucky took Sam’s arm gently, guiding him towards the door before Sam halted them with a warm palm to his chest.
“Buck, before we go out there...” Bucky rose a brow as cue to continue but found himself blindside by a kiss. He leaned into the warm hand on his cheek, tilting his head to deepen the sweet lip lock. Sam pulled away with a small puff of laughter, patting his chest.
“Let’s head out.” Sam left the room with ease, Bucky trailing behind with his head half in the clouds.
“Yeah, uh, okay...”
His lips tingled, and soon his whole body did the same as they entered the party and felt the music ripple through every finger and toe.
They’d be alright.