Supporting The Future Captain America: Sams Journey

Supporting the Future Captain America: Sam’s Journey

After episode 2 of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, I had so many thoughts and feels about some topics the show presented. This post: Marvel is showing America how we support Black people into positions of power, and I love it.

When Sam refused to become Captain America, I completely understood his decision. He never says it outright, but a part of his decision is based on the fact that he’s a Black man in America and believed that he wouldn’t be accepted. The writers of the show don’t explicitly tell us this, but they smartly let viewers come to their own conclusion after these scenes:

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Lady Ae Shin of the Go family and Captain Eugene Choi

I love this scene so much. I have to draw it out. 

fredag 20:24 | freitag 16:02

Wakanda when they heard Baron Zemo escaped from prison

5.1 | 8.21

SamBucky TFATWS Pre-Slash, Canon Compliant to 1x02

 3.2k words, Bucky POV

(excerpt of a 4-part AU fic, unfinished)

James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes didn’t know how it happened. Maybe he admired Sam Wilson more than he could admit. Maybe the younger, normal man reminded him of who he used to be, some seventy years before HYDRA stole his mind and identity. Bucky used to understand the rare human heart. He’d had it, once. But now, when Sam spoke, within and without the EXO-7 Falcon suit, Bucky was only able to wonder how someone so humorous can suddenly regain sobriety on the battlefield. Bucky could count on him not to be distracted. Bucky was the reckless one, now. Sam was so damn effective that Bucky laughed when Sam called his bluff about the Flag Smashers’ numbers in their lair in the Kazarian countryside, and he laughed when his grasp missed Redwing on the way out of the lair, and he laughed when Sam teased him for getting his ass kicked by a super strong girl in the group.

He wouldn’t have noticed Sam’s effect, because he never thought about his own heart. Not even after he glimpsed peace while farming in Wakanda. Not even after Steve came back from returning the Infinity Stones to their original locations, having lived out a long and satisfying life in the past as Peggy Carter’s husband.

Bucky thought of his heart only once when he watched Sam donate Steve’s shield to the Smithsonian Museum on the television.

Once, again, only when Sam refuted the convincing nature of Bucky’s overextended life.

And once more, at that moment, when Sam snatched him out from underneath the speeding loot truck and shot them both out to tumble through the adjacent field.

Bucky was so afraid of being separated, of finding Sam half a mile away with irreparably broken bones, that into the other man’s ear he yelled, “Don’t let go of me!”

Between breaths Sam responded, “I. Won’t!”

One hundred yards became two hundred yards. The wind was knocked out of Bucky’s lungs at three hundred yards. His fear peaked, and he placed his fleshy hand to the back of Sam’s head and held tight until they finally stopped rolling at five hundred yards away from the paved road. Under those ridiculous flight goggles, Sam blinked dazedly at the blue sky. Bucky huffed an anxious breath, tugging short curls between his thumb and index finger, waiting for Sam to prove that he was alright.

Sam then turned his gaze to Bucky’s and shifted his head. Relieved, Bucky removed his hand, curled his fingers into the fertile soil and smiled.

“You could have used the shield.”

A moment became two, before Sam’s humor rose again. “Get off of me.”

With the strength he had left, Bucky too landed on his back.  

“They were Super Soldiers, Sam.”

“I know.” There was a pause, followed by an amused huff. “You’re welcome by the way!”

After another minute, Bucky rolled onto his side and watched Sam regain the rest of his strength. There was nothing else to say. Sam shot disapproving glances his way and shook his head. Bucky nodded to him warily, rose to his feet, and helped Sam back to his. Once they reached the road again, they eventually ran into the enforcement pair from the U.S. Armed Forces—including the one posing as Captain America, the one using Steve’s shield.

John Walker.

After much convincing, the Avengers hitched a ride with them. Bucky didn’t even have to stare to know the imposter was also a loser. But if it unnerved him and Lemar Hoskins a.k.a. Battlestar too, all the better.

Suffice it to say, Bucky didn’t give thought to his heart again until their long day drew to a close in Baltimore, Maryland. It took six hours to fly four-thousand miles west by the Quinjet. But it was still daylight out, so he led Sam to Isaiah Bradley’s home. After being screened by who he guessed was Bradley’s grandson, Bucky introduced the men to each other.

He wanted Sam to meet Bradley so he could understand this whole Super Solider stuff was more complicated than either of them thought. It was no valid excuse that Bucky had been under HYDRA’s mind control when they’d engaged in the battlefield during the Korean War. At the reminder of having lost half of his vibranium arm in close-combat, he spoke with regret, and to his amazement Bradley talked with them, in his own home, for far longer than Bucky had expected, before tossing them out. Bucky had found out what happened to him—a thirty-year U.S. prison sentence and extensive U.S. Super Soldier experimentation—during one of his lucid spells, after HYDRA’s latest mastermind Alexander Pierce used the codewords on him for the last time in 2008. What his research on Bradley uncovered broke his heart something fierce, but Bucky had tucked it away until now.

“Were you the only one who knew about him?” Sam demanded as they walked down the street, toward the setting sun. Bucky’s heart was hammering in his chest. His mouth had gone dry.

“I couldn’t tell anyone…he’d…he’d been through too much, Sam.”

The reasoning had seemed good enough to him. Yet Sam now insisted, “No! You don’t think he could have had hope? You don’t think he could have been someone else’s hope?”

Sam glared disbelievingly at Bucky. He tried not to flinch. Had he been wrong this whole time?

“I asked you a question, Bucky.”

“I know.” He was looking for an adequate response.

When he took too long, Sam snapped. “Why didn’t anyone tell me there was a black Super Solider? After all this time?”

Just then a police cruiser pulled up and blocked their path in the street, the engaged siren painting the sidewalk in red and blue light. Before Bucky knew it, the cops were asking to see Sam’s I.D., which the other man said he didn’t have on him. Exasperated at being interrupted, as tense as the situation was, Bucky urged him to stop playing around, to show them his I.D., but Sam refused hotly.

“What do you want? We’re having a conversation.”

The second officer shifted his weight to his back foot, placed his hand on his hand gun and addressed Bucky. “Is this man bothering you, sir?”

“No!” he snapped and gestured to Sam with a hand in his jacket pocket. “Don’t you know who he is?”

Their attention returned to Sam. He stood still, fists clenched at his sides. When Bucky stepped forward, to lean in, to help somehow, Sam cut his eyes at him; as if he should have known what was happening. Bucky had been around long enough—one-hundred-six years to be exact—so he did know racial profiling when he saw it. He lowered his eyes to the gun on the officer’s hip—but it wouldn’t help the matter. Shame flooded his senses.

“We’re sorry, Falcon! Mr. Wilson!” the officers said after conferring with each other. “We didn’t recognize you without the goggles, man.”

Bucky frowned more deeply. It could have been true, but it felt wrong. What if his companion hadn’t been another Avenger? Sam was rightfully raging. What should they do?

The pair went over to the cruiser and returned suddenly with a warrant for Bucky’s arrest.

“Mr. Barnes, you missed your court-mandated therapy,” they informed him. Bucky closed his eyes wearily, only now recalling that it had been scheduled for two days ago. “It’s like missing time with your parole officer. We gotta take you in.”

Even after the police then carted him into the backseat, the haunted look in Sam’s eyes stayed with him as they drove off.

Of course, the waning day grew worse when he learned that John Walker, aka “Captain America” had vouched for him to get him released on bail. In fact, with his government clearance, Walker wiped Bucky’s schedule clean of appointments with Dr. Christina Raynor and fully expected him and Sam to see him after his last session with her.

“Now?” Bucky asked her, with exasperation.

“Yes,” she stressed, and looked toward Sam. “You, too. Come on.”

And well, it went worse than it should have gone. That happens sometimes, right?

She led them into an interrogation room and they took their seats. When the Morning Miracle Exercise failed, Dr. Raynor went on to use the Soul-gazing Exercise reserved for married couples. They were Avengers, charged with superhuman-enhanced work that meant life or death, so neither were surprised their fellow military officer used it on the pair. But Bucky couldn’t help but lean into the self-deprecation he knew Sam expected when she made her suggestion.

This time, Bucky wasn’t laughing. It wasn’t funny. It was serious.

“You’ll like this,” Sam mocked.

He returned the glare. “Of course I will.”

Dr. Raynor then ordered them to get closer. Bucky froze, so Sam took the reins and slotted their thighs together.

“Are you happy now?” he asked.

“It’s a little close.”

“It’s very close,” Sam snapped. “But that’s what you wanted, right?”

Bucky had refused to leave his side all day—so what? Although he wanted to turn his gaze to the floor, Bucky held Sam’s eyes. Having already noted Bucky’s “staring problem,” the other man caught on quickly and returned his competitive stare.

“Blink!” Dr. Raynor ordered, causing them to break. “Sweet Jesus! Now, James, tell me why Sam aggravates you so much.”

Bucky was aware there was no time to be surprised—after all, she had found out that up until today, he’d been ignoring Sam’s text messages—and with nowhere to hide from Sam’s insistently offensive gaze, Bucky leaned forward just a bit, so Sam would understand that he’d only say this once.

“Steve believed in you. He trusted you. He gave you that shield for a reason. That shield…that is everything he stood for. That is his legacy. He gave you that shield, and you threw it away like it was nothing.”

“Shut up.”

Bucky refused. “So maybe he was wrong about you. And if he was wrong about you, maybe he was wrong about me.”

“Alright,” Sam replied swiftly. “Are you done?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, good.” In his seat, Sam drew himself to his full height. “Maybe this is something you or Steve will never understand. But can you accept that I did what I thought was right?” Sam stared hard, and Bucky gaped, not knowing what to say. “You know what? We don’t have time for this. We have some real shit going on. So how about this? I will squash it right now. We go deal with that, and when we’re done, we both can go on separate, long vacations and never see each other again.”

Bucky sat back in his seat, feeling defeated. Sam just barely held himself from rolling his eyes and addressed Dr. Raynor. “You know what, Doc? This was great. A great exercise.”

“I’m glad,” she said genially, as he moved to his feet and swiftly headed for the door. Bucky’s brows furrowed, as he realized how unlike him it was for the ever-polite Sam Wilson to depart from anyone rudely. Dr. Raynor continued, “I think it went well. You two seem to talk more than his ignored texts of yours would lead someone to believe.”

That halted Sam’s steps enough for him to throw a bewildered glance at her over his shoulder. And then he was gone. Bucky briefly held his fingers to his brow, before moving to his feet to follow.

“What is it?” Dr. Raynor asked. Bucky quickly turned for the door. “I know that look. James.” After a huff, he turned around to face her. “What’s wrong?”

Bucky frowned at the linoleum and crossed his arms at his chest. Sam’s pain was at a level he never could have imagined causing. Bucky did that. The possibility of never seeing Sam again was a sudden strike to his heart, and it made him feel empty.  

“What was rule number two, Doc?”

Christina raised her brow disapprovingly. “Don’t hurt anyone.”

“Right.” He smiled sadly at her to convey his meaning. Her frown softened to concern. “Goodbye, Doc.”

He found Sam just a dozen yards from the front entrance, waiting for Bucky expectantly, when police sirens drew their attention. Walker and Hoskins called them over, resulting in a battle of wits Bucky would be proud to say they won. Sam was correct in that those two would need security clearance he and Bucky wouldn’t need.

“Then, stay the hell out my way,” Walker snapped, causing Bucky to frown, equal parts unsurprised and disturbed by his repeated demonstration of lacking respect for power.

When he and Sam exchanged glances, he felt they were on even footing again. Bucky’s strategic mind half-wanted to plot a trap for the irritating pair and also wanted to learn more about how those new Super Soldiers received whatever kind of serum they had and the details of their motives for illegally transporting vaccines across central and eastern Europe.

As they walked away, he figured it was best to let Walker fall into his own net.

After all, pride comes before the fall.

“Bucky,” Sam hissed, halfway down the nearest alley. “What the hell are you thinking?”

“Do you understand why I brought you to see Isaiah Bradley?”

“In a way, yes,” he huffed, long-suffering. “He’s like you and Steve.”

“Right. Well, he said that when the U.S. held him as a prisoner, even my people got to him.”

“He didn’t mean it like that. Not…’white people.’”

“No, I know. He meant HYDRA agents in disguise.” Sam’s mouth thinned at their mention. “I’m gonna go see Zemo.”

“Not a chance, man.”

“Walker doesn’t have any leads,” Bucky stressed, holding his gloved vibranium palm open. “Zemo’s the only one left alive who knows all of HYDRA’s secrets. Don’t you remember Siberia?”

“Of course, I remember. He’s the only one left alive because he personally saw to it.” Sam halted. Bucky turned back to him. “Now, since you’re so good at taking care of yourself, I will thank you for coming on this mission with me—although no one asked you to. And I expect you to thank me for coming with you.”

“What…are you saying, Sam?”

“We’re gonna see Zemo.” Bucky blinked, and then he chuckled, and even managed to smile his sudden, wild pleasure and gratitude. But somewhere along the way, Sam had gone somber. He shifted his feet and gestured to Bucky with his hands in his jacket pockets. “So, Dr. Raynor knows you’ve been ignoring my texts?”

Bucky squinted into the nearest streetlight. “I don’t think a picture of a busted up sheet of metal on the side of the road and the question, ‘Is this you?’ is worth noting.”

“It’s not to you, smartass, but okay. I’ll take that.” As he kicked at the ground, Bucky grimaced at himself. “Well, I realized you were avoiding me, so I haven’t called and I haven’t texted. What was so different about today, that you had to find me on the airstrip at Fort Meade?” When Bucky opened his mouth, he said, “I mean it. Really. If we’re gonna do this together…”

At first he scoffed, affronted that Sam would make him say it. But at now seeing the light come back into the other man’s eyes, at a shadow of friendliness, Bucky took the chance to make up for the pain he’d caused.

“Of course I can’t speak for Steve. But if giving up the shield really was the right thing to you, I can try to accept it. I do accept it.” Sam was reluctantly surprised. Bucky stepped closer. “But you don’t give away gifts that were intended for you. No matter what you’re afraid of happening.”

Now, that brought Sam up short. “Excuse me?”

Bucky pressed on his point. “That shield is still yours.”

“No, dammit,” he said, springing forward and pacing around agitatedly. “I don’t want the shield!”

“But—“ Bucky turned with him.

“I just want a day, post-Blip, where it feels like I’m not falling apart! Just one day! And I will get it—”

Bucky started, suddenly confronted by the weight of his own offense.

Wanting to take responsibility, wanting Sam to just stop so Bucky could help, he grabbed the front of the other’s man’s jacket, causing Sam to swallow his words. Sam moved to remove his hand but Bucky blocked the blow and held fast.

“Dammit, I’m sorry,” he whispered urgently. “I’m sorry for today, Sam.”

Sam’s brow furrowed. He was tired. More than anything he wondered what Bucky was doing.

“Do you see me? I’m right here, Sam— “

He tried to pull away. “I didn’t want you here.”

“Well, it’s too late, now. I’m on your side. That’s what I meant when I said I’d accept your decision.”

As he loosened his hold, Sam looked at him with a mixture of emotions: mostly dubiousness and something cautious, like the fear of slipping off of a dock and into a lake. He tugged the rest of his jacket out of Bucky’s grip. Always aware of his own imperfections, Bucky nodded to the younger man wearily.

After at times spending decades on Cryo-ice at the HYDRA Siberian base, Bucky understood that his history of mental stability was short; seven-years-long at most. But it was a good history, much of which Sam had seen to himself, and a future which he trusted Sam with.

“I’ll even make tomorrow better. That’s a given. I’m on your side,” he repeated. Sam was gazing at him with a soft tick between his brow, an expression Bucky had never seen. He smiled, and Sam looked away, flexing his hands in his pockets.

Bucky stepped backward to the edge of the alley and leaned his weight on the building behind, watching and waiting patiently for Sam’s reply.

Dr. Raynor was right. They were going to reach Helmut Zemo, because Bucky didn’t have to fear ever being subject to the Winter Solider codewords again. He was new now. He was free. He could do this.

Ever the pragmatist, Sam said slowly, “Well, I’ll know it when I see it.”

Surprised by his own amusement, Bucky inclined his head to hide his smile. Then he pushed off the wall and followed Sam’s lead to where he’d parked their rental car.

“New York’s only a four-hour drive,” he said once they found it. Sam was already shaking his head. “You should take me home.”

“You’re an idiot, if you think I’d ever do that. You’re also way more talkative than usual.” Bucky shrugged, trying not to feel exposed. Sam glanced at him from the driver’s seat and chuckled as they pulled off. “Like I said.”

But Bucky didn’t reply, instead choosing to peer out of the passenger window. Sam caught his smile after a few minutes, but Bucky just shook his head, aiming to keep the peace.

He didn’t mind an exchange of insults at all anymore, if it meant things between them were fine: a foundation to build on. Secure in this, he remained silent on the short drive back to the fort, where the Quinjet was waiting.

________

I couldn’t resist. My shipping goggles slid into place when Sam said, “He didn’t mean it like that,” and Bucky said, “I know.” It was so precious. 

I wrote this out last week, very dry pre-slash canon compliance stuff, before episode 3 aired. 

The entire fic will definitely be AU--Canon Divergent after episode 2. The plan with the plot is for Sam and Bucky not to reach Zemo so easily, because I rather think he’s involved in the rise of the Flag Smashers. *spoiler*-->Even if not in canon, that’s the case here. 

Title: Love to Burn (Phases of the Moon)

Summary:

It takes a month for Sam and Bucky to reach the Avengers’ old Sokovian rival, Helmut Zemo, somewhere the evil mastermind shouldn’t be. In that span of time, everything changes between them.

*or*

When the Falcon takes a pause, the Winter Soldier learns to stay.

Relevant Tags for what’s to come: 

MCU, TFATWS, Post-Captain America Movies, Post-Avengers: Endgame, Episode Coda, Post-Episode 1x02, AU—Canon Divergence, Not Canon Compliant, Friends to Lovers, Accidental Boyfriends, Slice of Life, Getting Together, Drama/Romance, Action/Adventure, Canon-Typical Violence, HYDRA (defunct), SHIELD (defunct), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Nightmares, Recovery, Loyalty, POV Bucky Barnes, Sam is a wet dream, Bucky is a consuming fire, Since this is a ship, Based on a song

Rating: M

Characters: James “Bucky” Barnes, Sam Wilson, Diane Raynor (Marvel), Sarah Wilson (Marvel), Sharon Carter (Marvel), Helmut Zemo (Marvel), Pepper Potts (mentioned), James Rhodes (mentioned), Steve Rogers (mentioned)