Control.

"Powerful."

Sam set you down in the kitchen table, shooting daggers through his eyes at the two agents already there, urging them to leave.

"You like eggs? I'm gonna make you some eggs." He mumbled, not leaving you room to reply. "Sunny side up? No no, scrambled's better, right?"

You didn't fill in the silence so he continued. "You know, my nephews love my scrambled eggs. You haven't lived until you try my eggs."

You zone out of his rant while he cooks away. Your mind replaying the previous scene on a loop. You try looking at it without emotion.

Bucky came at you, hard, and you defended yourself. He's incredibly skilled, if he actually wanted to hurt you, he would've. Where you ever in any real danger? Now that the adrenaline was leaving your system, you can see that you weren't.

He pushed you so much further than you'd ever been before. All the other Avengers and agents were nice, sure, but they knew you weren't normal and that played a factor in the way they handled you. Even Tony and Natasha, they guided like you were fragile.

For the first time you realised you weren't fragile like glass. You're fragile like a bomb.

It was scary and exciting. You stopped every shot Bucky threw at you. Sure, it drained you. You could feel it all through your body, your muscles were aching, your head felt heavy as hell. And yet, there was a lightness in you. For the first time, you completely mastered your magic, even if it was just for a couple of seconds.

Sam places a plate with scrambled eggs and two pieces of toast in front of you and pours two glasses of orange juice.

"Eat something, okay? You look whiter than the wall." He jokes with little humour.

You smile and wipe your sweaty hands on your leggings.
You golfed down the food with effort, your stomach still felt weak and sick. Sam watched you closely as you ate, clearly eager to speak.
You put the fork down and sigh at him, raising your eyebrows.

The Falcon scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. "I'm sorry, I'm just worried about you."

Your face softens a little bit. The soft red shade of his t-shirt contrasted nicely against his dark skin. Sam was definitely bulkier than when you met, all the hours of training and fighting shaping his body.

You stretch your arm to grab his hand gently, thanking him silently. He smiles back at you, baring his white teeth.

"How are you feeling?" He asks.
"Powerful." You blurt out without thinking.

Sam leans back with a curious expression. "That's not the answer I was expecting."

You shrug your shoulders and look away, embarrassed by your answered.
How weird it must've seemed to him. But it was true, it did make you feel good.

"Look, Y/N." Sam wraps both his hands around yours. "Bucky's my friend. He's a good man and I love him - don't tell him I said that - but he can be a little... intense."

You nod, deeply understanding what he meant.
He continues, almost amused.

"To be honest, I thought he'd come to you much sooner." He chuckles to himself. "The amount of times I've caught him staring at you."

You blink your eyes several times, wondering if you heard wrong. You don't offer any reply so Sam simply continues talking.

"When Bucky wants something, he gets it. You just gotta figure out what he wants with you and if you want it too."

He offers you a sweet smile and you can't
help smiling back.
Sam really was a good friend, to everyone around him. The same fierce loyalty that Steve used to have mirrored on his descendent.