Call Me Baby

Make the Call

"Hey, Sam? It's, uh... It's me."

"I know it's you, Buck. I got your number saved in my phone."

Sam studied the contents of his fridge. Somewhere in there was the makings of breakfast. An omelet perhaps. There were a few bell peppers in there that hadn't yet turned. Or maybe he'd indulge in some Nutella-smothered French toast and some sliced strawberries. Not exactly conducive to the Captain America diet, but a man only lived once.

Although in some respects, Sam was on his second life. Snapped out of existence, then brought back. He'd done his best to pick up the pieces, but... Five years. Sometimes it was almost too much for Sam to wrap his head around. He'd missed out on a lot. Being gone wasn't his fault, but he couldn't help carrying around some regret. Mostly around the loss of quality time with his family. Building forts in the living room with his nephews. Giving his sister a hard time, just because he could. They had five years worth of bickering to catch up on. Sam intended on making every moment count.

"You're saved as Optimus Prime," he noted, palming two eggs, "though I could've done worse." Olaf or Elsa were right there for the taking. However, Sam figured any references to Frozen were in poor taste. Especially now that he more than half way liked the guy.

The whine on the other end of the line almost made Sam crush the eggs in his hand. Gingerly, he set them down on the counter. His Alpha senses got kicked into high gear at that familiar sound. It was the whine of an Omega in desperate need. Sam knew that sound well, but he had never heard it coming from that man before.

"Are you busy?" Bucky's labored breathing was cause for concern. Super soldiers didn't get winded easily. So unless he had just run to Baton Rouge and back... "If you are, don't worry about it. I'll deal with it myself."

Sam had a pretty good idea what it was. And there was no way Bucky would be able to deal with it on his own.

Though he would much rather err on the side of caution and not go jumping to conclusions.

"Not busy at all." If they were face to face, Sam could use his Alpha pheromones to talk Bucky down from whatever ledge he was teetering on. Instead he used his voice instead to project safety and security. They were friends. Of a sort. And if Bucky was in trouble, Sam would suit up in a heartbeat.

However, he had a feeling that neither the suit nor the shield would be of any help in this particular instance.

He had a working theory of what Bucky was going through, but he needed to test it.

"I've got nothing on my plate for the rest of the day." Sam tucked the phone between his shoulder and ear, listening closely for any further sounds of distress. "Except for maybe a shower. I just got back from a run, so I stink to high Heaven."

James Buchanan Barnes, reformed assassin and occasional pain in the ass, fucking whimpered at the mention of Alpha's pungent musk.

Oh, yeah, that Omega was down bad.

All Sam could hear on the other end were several, shaky breaths. "You okay over there, man?"

"No," the aggrieved Omega grunted. "I'm fucking nesting, Sam!" He sounded as though his pride had been gravely wounded and he might never recover. "I had to ask Sarah where to get pillows and blankets and all sorts of soft stuff and... Hand to God, Sam, I have never built a nest in my whole life and now I've got one! This makes no damn sense!"

Oh, it made all the sense in the world. Bucky was an Omega. And Omega got to nesting when they were on the verge of Heat. It was totally instinctual. No previous nest building experience necessary. Surely this wasn't Bucky's first time going through this. At his advanced age, even subtracting the years he'd been on ice, the Omega should have been well acquainted with his mating cycle.