Wolf Pup (WinterFalcon)

Ch 3

"Symbols are nothing without the women and men that give them meaning." Sam said, "And this thing... I don't know if there's ever been a greater symbol."

Bucky watched the screen blankly. He pulled his knees into his chest. He didn't know why he bothered to watch it, but he couldn't look away.

Sam spoke again, "But it's more about the man who propped it up, and he's gone."

Bucky toned out Sam's words. He couldn't think straight. Sam was giving away the shield. He was really just giving it up. Steve had trusted him with the shield. With being Captain America. Steve trusted him. 

Steve had trusted Sam. He had trusted Bucky too.

Maybe Steve was wrong. Wrong about Sam. Maybe he was wrong about all of it. Maybe he was wrong about Bucky...

Bucky wasn't sure how long he was sitting there, lost in his thoughts. He jumped when he heard his phone begin to ring. Sam's caller ID showed up.

Sam waited as the phone rang in his ear. His foot tapping anxiously. He begged that Bucky would pick up. He needed to talk to him after all that had happened over the past few weeks. The call went to voice mail.

Sam sighed, "Hey, Buck, it's Sam. Just checking in." Sam said, "I could really use a chance to talk to you. Call me back if you can."

It hurt that Bucky didn't want him around. He missed him, just a little, even if he could be a pain in the ass. Sam wanted to talk with him, someone who would understand, even just a little bit. Bucky didn't seem to feel the same way.

Sam missed going over to see his little boy. He wonders if that has something to do with Bucky ignoring him. Sam hopes it wasn't. He had enjoyed his time taking care of Bucky, in a way it was relaxing for him too. Some days he just wanted to show up at Bucky's door and offer to let Bucky regress, but he never did.

But if Bucky needed to be alone then that was what he needed. Sam could respect that, he only wishes Bucky would talk to him, tell him to leave him alone at least. He needed that much.

Bucky woke up with a jerk. The bloody scene burned into his mind. His chest was tight. He could hardly breath.

The nightmares were getting worse. More frequent now since Sam hadn't been coming around, not that Bucky would be letting him in if he did.

He reached onto the sofa, grabbing his stuffed puppy and holding it close to his chest. He rubbed his fingers along her ear, the plush material and familiar crinkling sound bringing a small bit of comfort. But it was not enough. He still can't breath, and his paci would only make it harder.

A part of him wants someone to come hold him. A part of him wants Sam, a part of him wants his Sammy. He wants to be held and tucked in again. It's been so long. He wants his Sammy back. He misses him.

Bucky reaches for his phone and dials Sam's number. All he has to do is press the call button. That's all he needs to do.

But he can't.

He can't do it. Sammy's probably mad that he's been ignoring him. He already has so many missed calls from Sammy. Sammy's not going to want Bucky to bother him. It's late. He's probably sleeping.

Bucky tried to push all of those thoughts away. The thoughts of his Sammy, of Sam. He didn't need any help, he was doing just fine on his own. 

Bucky looked down at the plush toy in his hands. 'Pathetic' He thought. He shouldn't need a stuffed animal to make himself feel better. He slept on the floor again. Just like he had before Sam was there to help him. 'Pathetic' Can't even sleep on your own bed without someone to tuck him in.

It felt like he was drowning. He needed to find a way to get his head above water but something kept pulling him down. No matter how hard he swam, how fast, he couldn't reach the top. The light only grew dimmer.

"So, Mr. Barnes, are you still having nightmares?" Dr. Raynor asked, Bucky didn't respond, "James, I asked you a question."

Bucky looked up slightly, being pulled away from his thoughts. 

"Are you still having nightmares?" Dr. Raynor asked again.

"No." Bucky lied.

Bucky could tell that she didn't believe him. Of course she didn't. Bucky wouldn't have believed himself either. But he didn't want to talk about the things he'd seen, the way he felt.

He'd been getting better. But he screwed it all up again. How was he supposed to tell anyone that. He'd been so close to the surface and he let himself drown.

Sam wished that Bucky would answer him. Just so they could talk. Things were only getting worse at home. Sarah wanted to sell the boat. She needed the money, but Sam wasn't sure he'd be able to let it go. When the bank denied them the load... He wasn't sure what to do. 

Bucky wouldn't have been much help, sure. But it would have been nice to talk to someone about it, someone who didn't already have their mind made up on what was right to do. 

Sam wouldn't let it go. The boat. The loan. The house. He's stubborn, Sarah knows that better than anyone.

Sarah tried to change the subject, "How's Bucky?"

"Don't know." Sam shrugged.

"He still isn't talking to you?" Sarah asked.

Sam frowned and shook his head, "No, he's not. He hasn't said a word to me since... Well since Steve's been gone. I just wish he'd answer my calls sometimes. Or tell me to fuck off."

"Sam, I know you want to help him, but you can't do that if he doesn't want your help." Sarah replied.

Sam sighed, "Yeah, I know."

"Well, then get it through your big head. When Bucky's ready to let you help, he'll let you help. Don't try to push him too hard." Sarah said, "I know it's going to be hard for you, you want to help everyone. Especially if they don't want you too. And I don't know what it is but I can tell you don't see that boy as just any other friend."

"I don't know what you're tryin' to say with this "not just any other friend" shit, but-" Sam paused, "Is this your way of trying to distract me?"

"Well, it's workin' isn't it?" Sarah laughed a little, "Come on, we've got work to do. We can keep talking about your little boyfriend if you want but you better start moving."