Sharing Pain《sambucky》

《rehab》

The air is suffocating as Sam and Bucky sit next to each other and Sam huffs out angry air out of his nostrils.

He isn't really mad at Bucky, he wasn't at fault for what happened to Mr Bradley, still Sam just wants to hit something and let those emotions run wild.

Bucky's bruises have long since healed, but Sam's hasn't. Sitting in this disgusting plastic chair isn't really helping much, but he just swallows his discomfort. In front of them is Dr. Raynor, Bucky's therapist.

This woman, if Sam has to think about it, is just plain harsh, but as he himself is also a therapist, he knows this is what Bucky needs.
Someone, that won't baby him and let him get away with stuff just because of his trauma. Someone to lead him the right direction with a metal fist, pun intended.

Sam couldn't be that person, all Bucky has to do is look at Sam with those big, vulnerable eyes of his and Sam would melt.

Sam knows that.

But more importantly, Bucky knows that.

And he uses it in all kind of situations.

But now, Bucky's normally vulnerable side, the one only Sam, Steve, Shuri and Natasha ever really got to see is shut down by his killer glare, eyebrows drawn together and lips sealed shut in pure anger.

"This isn't working, either." Raynor interrupts Sams perfect analyse of Bucky and he groans. She refers to her try at the miracle question and the soul gazing exercise. Sam hates the latter, any more starring into those blue orbs and he might have died in drool about how pretty they are.

"Let's talk about your soulmates." She says, clapping her hands in confirmation.

He feels his blood run cold, sweat dripp down his forehead at the thought of the one person he never got to safe.

The person he's abandoned.

His soulmate is fine, they aren't getting hurt as much. Still, nobody survives that much pain without some nasty scars afterwards.

Bucky's legs that are still conveniently between his own, tense up. The metal whirrs as it tightens around the metal chair armrest. He sees Bucky's Adam apple bob, but the man refuses to meet his eyes.

"Let's not." Bucky grits out, his voice as tense as the rest of his body is.

"I think we should. James, you don't know your soulmate. What about you, Mr. Wilson?" She states, calm and collective, a complete opposite to the two men in front of her.

"I don't wanna talk about it." He grits out between his teeth and Bucky raises an eyebrow in question.

"Why not?" Raynor asks, and Sam wants to cry. No way in hell will he talk about it, about them in front of Bucky and Doctor Raynor.

"Do you feel guilty, like James does, Mr.Wilson?" She implores, and Bucky's mouth drops open.

"What the hell happened to not being able to talk about patients cases?" He mutters, and those blue eyes avoid all kind of contact, starring blankly at the floor.

"I'm sure Mr.Wilson was entrusted with your case file, James. He knows as much as I do, since you aren't the most talkative person." Dr.Raynor clicks with her tongue in disapproval and Bucky's response is an agitated snort.

Sam's mouth is so dry, he desperately wants to drink. After a few minutes,  he finds his voice again and asks.
"What do you feel guilty for?" 

Round, big blue eyes find his and Sam sees so much emotion in those, he might just cry.
"I don't- I don't wanna think about the pain I caused them." He whisperes, and Sam swallows down the lump in his throat.

He only knows his perspective, he never thought about how his soulmate must feel, knowing there is someone getting hurt because of them.

"Don't think they'll want to meet me." Bucky's voice sends him out of his thoughts and suddenly, Sam really, really wants to cry.

"No, Bucky. You, I- oh, my god, of course they want to meet you! They are your soulmate, they'll want to...." Sam whispers, Raynor somehow forgotten. A warm, dark skinned hand settles on top of Bucky's thigh, that are still conveniently settled between his own, and tries to smile, but only grimaces.

Sam is taken aback by Bucky's reaction, which is an annoyed snort and an eyeroll.

"Yeah, of course. 'Hey, I'm your soulmate, sorry for all the pain I caused, is just kinda part of being a brainwashed assassin serial killer!'" He claps his own hands together and leans forward, pronouncing the last four words intensely.

"That's not what's gonna happen." Sam tries, but before he even finishes, Bucky already shakes his head.

"How would you know?" He seethes, the metal of his arm digging a little more into the armrest, still leaning forward.

Sam can't, he can't tell them, god, he can't talk about his poor soulmate, can't find his voice, can't get his tongue to move, can't think of the one person he couldnt save. The person he abandoned.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

When Sam's answer is silence, Bucky scoffs and leans back into his chair, rolling his eyes so vehemently as he crosses his arms across his chest.
"Fucking thought so."

Sam is tacken aback by this reaction and his entire core is enveloped by a blinding rage.

"You selfish fuck!" He growls  and Bucky's eyes snap to his. "Why can you be sensitive about your bond, but I can't? I find it hard to talk about it, too! So, let me self pity, you shit!" His nostrils flare up and he squares his shoulders, looming over Bucky's sunken in form in the chair. He sees it in those blue orbs, Bucky prepares for a response, but both are interrupted by Raynor, who has had enough of this Bullshit, it seems.

She asks Bucky, or James, as she calls him, why Sam aggravates him and a new discussion starts about the shield.

Oh, boy, this day couldn't end any faster...