|| SamBucky (WinterFalcon Oneshots) ||

Late Night Calls

Bucky was asleep when his phone rings. With a tired groan, he turns over and screws his eyes shut. If it's important, they'll call back. However, the ringing continues, and with a huff of frustration, Bucky leans over to grab his phone, frowning in concern when Sam's contact shows up. Hastily unplugging his phone, Bucky answers the call, his heart sinking. 
"Oh! You answered." Sam sounds broken. His voice is weak, and if Bucky listens closely, he can hear faint sniffling. "Sam? You okay?" Bucky croaks, his voice thick with sleep. It's unusual for Sam to be calling this late at night, especially on a school night. 

"Uh-Yeah." He says, but his voice trembles, words hesitant. "Just wanted to hear your voice?" He says, his face twisting at the pathetic display. How stupid does Sam have to be to call his friend at this time of night. He feels like he's drowning, panic gripping at his chest as he struggles to breathe. The glass digs into his skin, having shattered. 

"I'm sorry for waking you." Sam whines, wiping his tears with his free hand. 

Bucky clicks his tongue quietly. "Don't apologise. Are you hurt? Sam, come on, speak to me." He pleads, swinging his legs over the bed as he changes into a decent pair of clothes. The world outside is slowly waking up, the moon still out. His mind races. What's got Sam so upset? Is he hurt? Did something happen? Sam's silence is deafening. It's weird hearing Sam so quiet, trying to stifle his sobs. Bucky can feel his heart break at the sound.

"I messed up." Sam whines, sobbing freely now, his heaving breaths echoing through the line. "I'm sorry, please don't be mad." He pleads, and Bucky doesn't even bother putting on shoes. Instead, he jumps out of his window and sprints to Sam's house. He's, thankfully, only 15 minutes. "I'm not mad, Sam. I could never be mad at you. I'm on my way now, okay Sam? Just keep breathing. In for 4, hold for 4 and release for 4." He manages out, legs burning from the sudden exercise. 

Sam, through the pain that threatens to swallow him whole, listens to the sound of rushing air through the speakers, and he breathes shakily. "I'm trying. I can't breathe, everything hurts." 

"I'm just around the corner, Sam. I'm going to hang up, but it'll only be a few minutes before you see me, okay?" 

"Okay." He whispers shakily, following Bucky's tip. 

Inhale. 

Hold.

Exhale. 

The motion seems to ease the burning in his chest, if only for a moment. He looks up as Bucky runs into the kitchen, his eyes wide with horror. Sam looks away, afraid of judgement. What if Bucky leaves him? He's a mess, littered with cuts and surrounded by broken glass. Sam, through his panicked haze, notices James's lack of shoes. It makes him feel grateful that he has a friend like Bucky. 

Sam watches silently as James steps around the glass, pulling him in. The warmth and scent of James has Sam's weak and he crumbles into his arms, arms holding onto Bucky's shirt like he's afraid that if he lets go, this will all be a dream. 

Afraid that he'll be alone. 

They stay like that for a while, Bucky encasing Sam in his warm embrace, letting the darker boy cry into his shoulder. It makes him wonder. Why is Sam alone? Where are his parents? Where is everyone else? Surely they would've heard the sound of glass shattering. Bucky presses a kiss to Sam's hair, whispering soothing words. 

James has never been good at comforting people. He's always stayed away from emotional conflict, mainly because he doesn't know how to calm people down. But with Sam, everything felt natural. He hated to see his friend look so broken. Maybe, if Bucky holds him tight enough, he can glue the pieces together. Eventually, Bucky pulls away once Sam's sobs die down, leaving the atmosphere thick with tension. Sam is avoiding eye-contact, and it makes Bucky sad. 

"I'm not going to judge. Can you let me help you?" He asks quietly, gently cupping Sam's face in his hands, eyes sincere. Magnetic blue eyes that reminds Sam of the ocean. Sam could get lost in them forever, so long as those eyes never stop looking at him. Sam tilts his head in Bucky's hold, eyes fluttering at the comforting touch. 

"Yeah." He whispers, letting the other boy pull him up from his spot. He winces as the glass shards embed themselves in his skin, leaning against Bucky. He's so tired, and all he wants to do is curl up into a ball and sleep for eternity. But he can't leave Bucky behind. They're friends, and Sam doesn't leave friends behind. The next few moments are blurry, and when he finally comes to, he finds himself curled up in his bed, Bucky resting beside him, tired blue eyes gazing at him warmly. 

"Why didn't you call me earlier?" He asks quietly, his lips twisted into a small frown. His face is pinched in concern, and Sam feels guilty that he's the reason why Bucky is feeling sad. The boy already does so much for him, and this is how Sam repays him? Useless. The voice in his head whispers, and he sighs, avoiding Bucky's gaze. 

"I didn't want to be a burden." He murmurs, looking down at his hands. He finds them wrapped in bandages, and his heart aches. He doesn't deserve Bucky. But Sam is selfish, and he wants Bucky all for himself. Wants those eyes only on him. It's possessive, he knows, but Bucky, apart from Steve, is the only person who accepts him for who he is. It doesn't matter that he's black, Bucky loves him all the same, and Sam often struggles to understand that. Can you blame him? The world, so focused on bring people like him down, you have to expect the worse. To never let your guard down. Because that can get you killed. 

Bucky sighs, nudging Sam's gaze with his fingers. "You're not a burden. You'll never be a burden to me, Sam. You're one of the smartest guys I know. You're funny, and you're always smiling. Your smile is breathtaking. Everything about you is. I-I'm not very good at all of this comfort stuff, but don't ever think you're a burden." 

Sam, despite having no tears left to cry, feels himself tearing up anyways, his heart racing. The words are balm on his frayed nerves, leaving him relieved. Smiling a watery smile, Sam sniffles. "You think I'm breathtaking?" He teases, enjoying the way Bucky's eyes widen. His cheeks flush red, and Sam giggles. "Of course that's what you get out of the whole speech." Bucky grumbles, the tips of his ears burning. 

"Yes. Everything about you is captivating. Just, if you're feeling bad, come to me. I want to be there for you." He says seriously. Sam nods. 

"We'll talk more tomorrow. Get some sleep." Bucky whispers, tracing his fingers across Sam's face.