You can grow flowers from where dirt used to be

Oneshot

As Bucky walked away from Sam's garden, he heard the steady sound of the shield bouncing against the trees in the distance and his friend's voice began to echo in his head.

"You gotta stop looking to other people to tell you who you are."

Bucky's throat tightened the same way it had when Sam had said those words to him.

Since he had come back and almost become himself again, no one, not even Steve, had said something like that to him.

In fact, since he had fallen off the train over 70 years ago, this was the first time anyone talked to him like that. He was so used to taking orders, going where he was told, fighting when he was told, that he didn't know what else to do.

Sam hadn't told him who to be, but thanks to him Bucky was beginning to see who he could be.

"You want to climb out of the hell you're in, do the work. Do it."

Sam hadn't given him an accusative look, hadn't judged him when he pointed out that Bucky wasn't making amends. That he was avenging his victims by catching the bad guys he'd enabled by being the Winter Soldier. Sam had just suggested another way, that Bucky's closure was possible through the closure of those he had harmed by taking the life of one of their own.

" I'm sure there's at least one person in that book who needs closure about something, and you're the only person who can give it to 'em."

When Bucky told him there were dozens of them, for a moment he didn't dare turn his head for fear of reading the blame in Sam's eyes. But the man had simply said that it was cool, that he should start with one. In his eyes, there was no judgment, just trust, the trust that he had had from the beginning and that had remained, unshakeable despite Steve's departure. Bucky decided that he would never do anything to break that trust.

So as he walked along, he opened his notebook and looked through the list of names. He was going to make amends, whatever it took. He would save the two hardest ones for last. He would go through with it.

Later, as he was on the plane waiting to leave, looking out the porthole in what seemed to be the direction of Sam's house, he picked up his phone.

He wrote just two word.

Thank you.

He was ready. And once he got to the end, then maybe he could ... he shook his head, it was way too early. He had to do everything first to be worthy of the trust Sam had in him.

Lulled by the hum of the plane's engine, he let his mind drift off to sleep.

____

Sam continued to throw the shield for an hour before deciding to go for a run.

The first few minutes were always the same, he always expected to hear "On your left." and get passed by Steve. He knew that would never happen again. Of course it made him a little nostalgic, but just like a memory of the good old days. Something good that one liked to reminisce about. He then thought of Bucky who had barely found his friend to see him off again, who had many more memories with Steve than he did.

Bucky. It had taken all the courage in the world to let him go. To keep the handshake casual. Sam knew he had to give the man time to fully liberate himself.

They were learning to relate to each other without the bond that had brought them together, without the shadow of Steve.

Sam was beginning to see the Bucky that Steve had told him about. Sure, Bucky would never go back to the way he was, who could after going through what he had, but he would get back to the part of himself that had been suppressed for so long.