The one forgiven sin 《Sambucky》

00.14

I broke my rules for you

I don't care how complicated this gets. I still want you

Zemo was... pushing his buttons. The guy aggravated Sam in ways he didn't think were possible. But Zemo was indeed needed for their mission. So he would neet to suck it up.

He was more concerned about Bucky, anyway.

Zemo specialized himself of fucking hurting him, talking so freely about the notebook, which, to Sam's knowledge, belonged to Steve. Which led to him believing Steve gave it to him to write about the things he still wanted to do in the 21th century.

So, why was Bucky writing names into it? And who were those people?

But, he wouldn't ask Bucky about it, the guy was so tense, he might rip a muscle by just sitting.

"And, James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone."

Oh, fuck no!

This was what Sam was scared for, as he had realized his dumbass of a partner had released Zemo from prison. Zemo taking full advantage and getting under poor BabyBucky's skin. And hurting him.

Sam knew he couldn't help in anyway, so he stayed silent and glared at Zemo from across the room.

This fucker. He better be ready to deal with the consequences of his actions.

•□•□•□•

Madripoor was... interesting, somewhat. The people looked all so different, it was so horrifying but inspiring at the same time. One could see this place wasn't built  for the most innocent bunny. This place was made for killers and gang members, such as the onces Sam was traveling alongside.

Or so he thought. But when he looked back at Bucky, the guy was trembling, pale, a thin layer of sweat had transcended onto his forehead.

Shit.

Oh, Fuck.

Bucky's therapist will definitely hear about this one.

Sam was quick to blame himself, because Bucky after all, was here because of him. He had dragged Bucky into the fight again, and he was deeply sorry, but he needed him by his side. The guy was probably so sick of fighting, he had done it so many years, that he never when wanted to see a gun again.

But as he saw him surpressing his laughter as he all but choked on his snake-organ-drink, the sympathy somewhat deflated.

"We want to have a chat with Selby." Zemo told the bartender, and the temperature in the bar turned so fucking cold, Sam could see his own breath.

"You can't see her." A nameless guy glared at Zemo, but the short Baron rarely looked bothered.

"She can come down and talk, or..." He trailed off, only slightly looking onto Bucky's direction.

"New haircut?" The guy whistled, and Sam felt sick. Sicker than Bucky looked, anyway. They all recognized Bucky as nothing but the Winter Soldier, no one cares about the man behind it.

The man who fought so hard to forget about the soldier.

The man whose efforts were undone in less than one evening.

But when one had grabbed a hold of Zemo, and he said the most dreaded name Sam had ever heard, all he could do was watch.

Turned out Bucky really was lacking any passion back on that truck.

Because right now he was throwing punches and kicks so effectively, Sam could hear their bones breaking from a distance away.

Once he got close enough, he heaved a man onto the bar, his metal arm like a vice around the man's throat. Sam couldn't help himself and he grabbed Bucky's-

No, the солдат-

No, Bucky's shoulder. He could hear distinglishly Zemo telling him to stay in character, but Sam had already focused on Bucky. Somewhere, Bucky had dropped the man and was starring right ahead.

"You good?" He asked, his voice unimaginably soft.

But when Bucky turned around to face him, he was anything but. His blue big eyes were flooded with tears Bucky refused to let fall and his alabaster skin was so white and shiny, thanks to the sweat, Sam was sure he would collapse.

Instead, Bucky answered his question with a nod Sam had no reason to trust.

•□•□•□•

"You give us information, and I give you... him." Sam wanted to scream at Zemo to fucking get his hands off of Bucky as the baron seemingly unbothered had reached for Bucky's chin, stroking it gently.

Bucky himself seemed...weird, his posture and face so stoic, Sam had trouble reading him again. As if he was at square one. But, he could read him.

And the emotion Bucky was emitting was deep, heavy fear.

If one didn't know where to look, one would miss it. But Sam had studied Bucky, he could easily keep track on how tense his jaw was right now. Or how his non-bionic hand was shaking, if only slightly. Or how his blue eyes were dilated, unfocused and glazed over.

"With the codewords to control him, of course." Zemo whispered, and as Sam wondered what the codewords were used for, he made a mistake and looked into Selbys direction.

She looked... starved, licking over her chapped lips, her eyes burning with unsatisfied lust, and-

Oh, god.

Sam could feel his stomach sink to his shoes and his heart hurting for his friend as he looked back at him.

Bucky was used. Abused, in more ways than Sam originally thought.

Bucky never was treated as a person, he was a possession for HYDRA, an object. A toy.

Oh, no...

I am so sorry, Bucky...

His heart was shattering into billion of pieces as he thought of it. Bucky's scars were way more life threatening than Sam had originally thought, and now, he couldn't even protect him. In any way possible. Not from Zemo, not from Shelby, not from the American government, and most importantly, not from his own demons.

Sam couldn't protect him.

But that would have to change.

He will protect Bucky.

At any costs.

Never in his life was he more happy to get a call from his sister.

Running away from bounty hunters weren't exactly in his plans, but he could make it work.

As long as Bucky was at his side, he could do anything...