Amends (Sambucky)

Chapter Twenty-Three

"Where's Sam?"

"In his room," Riley waved Bucky off, "Why?"

"Nothing, just wondering," Bucky mumbled as he searched the room despite the answer.

The previous night, he and Sam stayed up late, eating the various foods and talking. They agreed to go for breakfast and a run that morning, but Sam was nowhere to be found.

"Do you need something?" Riley asked, "I could probably help if-,"

"No. I don't want your help," Bucky blinked, "Ever."

"Damn," Riley shook his head, "I'm just trying to be your friend, man."

Bucky walked out without another word. He couldn't help but be judgmental; he had never been wrong. Sure, he didn't like Sam at first, but that's because he knew he was annoying and burdensome— which still proved to be true. The only thing Bucky didn't realize, was that Sam's irritating person was one that he took a liking too, and that wouldn't change.

"Sam?" Bucky asked as he knocked on the door. When he got no response, he tried again with a bit more effort, "Sam?!"

The door opened, revealing a sweat covered Sam in pajamas. The bags beneath his eyes were more prominent; his nose had a slight tint, "Hey, Buck, sorry I didn't notice the time. Did I miss-,"

"What the-," Bucky let himself in, "-you look like shit."

"Thanks," Sam glared, before continuing, "I see you everyday, but I don't say anything."

"I'm serious," Bucky insisted as Sam went back and sat on the small couch, resting his head on the back of it, so he could face Bucky.

"Me too," Sam replied, wrapping himself further into the blanket.

Bucky glanced around the room, noticing how there were dishes in the sink, empty water bottles on the counter, and a nearly full trash can. He crossed his arms, "You need to take today off. If this gets any worse, you're seeing a doctor. We can't put it off any longer."

"No, I'm not seeing a doctor for a fucking cold."

"Look, I'm not for it either," Bucky agreed, but his voice was firm, "But the only thing dumber than seeing a doctor for a cold, is dying because of a cold."

Sam rolled his eyes, dropping his heavy head to rest as a small cough escaped, "James, 'm not gonna die. Besides, I have a bad history with doctors."

"Sam, trust me, I get it. The last time I encountered a doctor- it didn't end very well either," Bucky argued, knowing that they both recalled exactly what he was talking about. Sure enough, his statement made Sam's gaze drift towards his arm with his mouth shut, like a child who'd realized that they messed up, "You have no excuse. Your best bet is to drink a bunch of water, get a lot of sleep, and pray to that God you believe in that you don't get any worse."

Sam sighed, sniffing as he weighed his options. When Sam's posture sunk in, Bucky noticed his defeat, "Yeah, okay."

Bucky sat down at the table, not saying anything because he knew Sam would fill the silence on his own.

"Have you talked to Ry lately?" Sam coughed.

Bucky blinked, "Who?"

"Riley? Ry?" Sam tried, "He's got a lotta nicknames; you'll find one that sticks."

"How about manwhore?" Bucky scoffed.

"Bucky!" Sam tried his best to clear his scratchy voice as he stood up, "Why are you always such an-,"

"-asshole. Yeah, whatever," Bucky rolled his eyes, "Calm down. You're gonna make yourself go into cardiac arrest."

"James, I'm serious! I'm tired of you-," Sam cut himself off with a coughing fit. When he didn't recover after a couple of tries, he bent over as he tried to clear his throat.

"Yeah, knew that too," Bucky replied, noticing Sam struggle as someone knocked on the door, "You okay?"

Bucky shifted, debating on ignoring the door, "Sam?"

When Sam didn't respond, Bucky made his way beside him, moving him toward the couch. Sam stayed bent over as Bucky pushed him, forcing Bucky to acknowledge his stubbornness, "Hey. Hey, I need you to let me lean you back, okay? You've got to open your airways."

"He's right," Riley replied from where he'd let himself in, rushing to Sam's side, "Watch out."

Bucky allowed himself to be pushed out of the way; his eyebrows furrowing more with every cough. He watched as Riley held Sam's chest up and hit his back in an attempt to help; it worked.

"Jesus, Sam," Riley breathed, leaning him back against the couch, "We can't do this anymore."

Sam breathed out a sigh, trying to catch his breath, "No, no really-,"

He glanced between the two, "I'm fine! I get like this when I'm sick because of my asthma. I just need some tea to soothe my throat while I get over it."

"Tea?" Bucky raised his eyebrow, "I don't picture you liking tea, or even ever having tried it."

"I disagree. He's always liked tea," Riley sided with Sam, "Not as much as other beverages, but he's liked teas, right love?"

Sam offered Riley a smile, sniffing, "Yeah. See, Bucky? If you want to help, you could get me some tea."

Bucky bit his tongue, "Right."

"I heard they have some in the convenience store downstairs," Riley pitched in, "If not, they've probably got some in the flea markets down there."

"Of course. Before I go," Bucky push his fists into his pockets, "What type of tea would you like, Wilson?"

Sam shrunk back slightly, "Uhm, if you could please get echinacea tea, I'd appreciate-,"

"What? No, Sam, that's not-,"

"Alright, echinacea it is," Bucky press his lips into a fine line as he headed for the door. The silence and tension in the room could be cut with a knife.

"I'll pay you back!" Sam squeezed out before a cough, "Thanks again."

Before Bucky could speak, Riley began,

"Don't worry about it, Sam, I'll pay for it," Riley waved him off, "But he's right, thank you, Bucky."

Bucky resisted his natural urge for Sam,

"You're welcome."