Amends (Sambucky)

Chapter Eighteen

"What else don't we know?" Bucky resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"That's what I'm saying," Riley chuckled, stopping when he felt a glare.

The two were sitting across from each other in Sharon's new room, Sam beside Riley. They had arrived not long after Lynn was brought in, and now she, Coe, and Elina were in the basement, waiting on questioning.

"Some things I have to waited to tell you," Sharon explained, "This was one of them."

"Whatever, man," Riley waved her off, heading to the fridge for a beer.

"Sam, don't you think this is bullshit?!" Bucky asked, "Hello?"

"I don't know, Buck," Sam sighed, "At least she's telling us now."

"Are you seriou-,"

"I feel you, Barnes," Riley piped in, "Sharon, you should've told us earlier."

"Yeah, well, if I'd known you'd react like this, I would've," Sharon pressed her lips in a line, "So are we gonna continue or what?"

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, "Continue what?"

"Questioning them," Sharon stated simply, "Does anyone have practice in interviewing these people?"

"Not me," Riley sat down and took a swig.

"Just a bit."

Bucky didn't say anything as he gaze burned into the wall, trying avoid the steady glances in his direction. He crossed his arms, "My skills aren't appropriate here."

"I actually agree with that," Sam mumbled, resting his head in his hands, "Can we wait until tomorrow? It's getting late."

Had Sam not slept for the last few of hours in the car, Bucky might've believed he was tired.

"Yeah that's fine. We'll start off with just me and Sam, call in backup if needed," Sharon agreed, grabbing her phone and pushing it into her back pocket, "Since this is my new room, anyone is welcome to my old one."

"Sam can take it," Riley offered, before turning to Bucky, "If it's alright with you."

Bucky resisted the urge to punch the man, "I'd prefer not to stay in a room with someone I don't know."

"Well we've met, haven't we?"

Bucky didn't say anything, only glaring as if that would make him stop. Riley eventually felt the stare,

"I'm sorry. I just don't see the problem-,"

"It's fine. Bucky and I can split it," Sam decided, "Problem solved."

"But there's only one bed," Riley reminded.

"Okay, then you take it," Sam huffed.

Riley shrugged, "If you insist."

~~~~~

"There's no way you're actually tired," Bucky stated as he plopped onto his bed. He laid sprawled out on the bed, his gaze on the ceiling.

Sam sighed from beneath his covers, his eyes closed, "I dunno. I'm just exhausted today."

Bucky furrowed his eyebrows in thought, "But how? You slept way for over fifty percent of the last 24 hours."

"Just sorta fatigued I guess. Maybe more mental than physical."

"I get it," Bucky hummed, "I'll be quiet."

"No, it's alright," Sam pushed himself up, looking over to Bucky's bed, "I can't sleep anyway."

Bucky mirrored him, "No?"

"No, kinda restless," Sam shrugged honestly, "But what's on your mind?"

Bucky thought for a bit, "I don't really like Riley. He seems off."

"He means well."

Bucky stared.

"Okay, I'll admit, he has been a little off since I saw him last," Sam sighed, "But who wouldn't be? He had to fake his death to stay safe, cut himself off from everyone else. He's bound to change a bit."

Bucky laid against the headboard, curiosity getting the best of him, "Sam, I always tell you about me, but I barely know anything about you."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you know who I talk to, what I like to do, and what I dream about," Bucky continued, before adding, "I don't know shit about you— well, other than knowing that you fight like actual shit-,"

"Oh fuck off," Sam laughed, making Bucky laugh too. Sam shrugged, "What do you wanna know anyway?"

Bucky bit his lip, "If you didn't get roped into being the falcon, or Captain America, what would you be doing right now?"

"Um," Sam mumbled, thinking it over, "I think I'd probably somewhere where I didn't know anyone, and no one knew me. Somewhere small. Where I'd be able to live however I want, and no one would care."

Bucky nodded, encouraging Sam to continue, "Why can't you just do that now? You know, do what you want?"

"I..." Sam went silent, "-I just can't. I've got responsibilities.....people. People I can't let down."

And for the first time in a long time, Bucky felt that too. Similar to how he felt with Steve, but not quite there. No, this was stronger, "I get that."

Sam hummed a bit in agreement, turning on his side as he laid back down, "It'd be nice though."

"Yeah, it would," Bucky couldn't take his eyes off the man, not being able to understand what exactly was holding Sam back, "Just make sure you're not letting yourself down either, alright?"

Sam nodded, though he wasn't sure what that meant, "I won't."

Bucky reached over and flicked off the lamp, forcing himself to roll over. Again, curiosity got the best of him, "What do you like to do? Other than this job?"

"I don't know, really," Sam lied, the countless times his interests had been made fun of relaying in his mind. There was only one person he really talked to about his interests, and it was Riley.

"Nothing at all?"

Sam didn't say anything in fear of giving his lie away, but then a hint of pink crept onto his cheeks, "I guess I like festivals."

A grin fell onto Bucky's face even though he couldn't see Sam, "Oh yeah?"

Sam laughed, before squeezing his eyes shut despite the burst of energy he felt, "Yes."

"Yeah, I guess they're alright," Bucky joked, making Sam smile so wide he buried his face in his pillow.

"Goodnight, Bucky," Sam forced out, a small smile falling on Bucky's face,

"Night, Sammy."