CW: mild violence against women, safety issues, language, BIG angst.
Fleming, Ohio
They're standing in the middle of an abandoned farm. The house is boarded up and it looks like a human being hasn't lived here in decades. The sun beats down on them mercilessly. They've combed every inch of the property. There isn't a goddamn sign of him.
Steve has his hands on his hips as he looks over the property grimacing against the blinding sunlight while Sam texts Natasha.
Dead end.
It was worth a shot, wasn't it? I'll see if I can drum up another lead. Sit tight.
Thanks, Nat.
Sam pockets his phone and sighs.
"He could be anywhere, Steve."
"Yeah, which is why we're following every lead."
He's so confident that he almost believes his own bullshit.
"Don't you think it's a waste of time?"
"No," Steve replies matter of factly as he turns to face him. "Like I said, he could be anywhere."
Sam scoffs.
"And you think he's hiding out like an animal on a farm in Ohio?"
They're getting nowhere and chasing ghosts and dead ends. They're both frustrated, and it shows. All of Natasha's years working in intelligence combined with Sam's access to military databases, they still can't come up with a single solid lead. So, they're relying on eyewitnesses who think they might have helped out a large, muscular man with long dark hair. Most of the time, they can suss out whether the story is made up over the phone, but sometimes - like today - it's more difficult.
"I don't know where he is," Steve confesses. "But I have to try and find him, and I won't say no to any door that opens for us."
"Why?" Sam asks. "I mean, other than putting him in jail for the rest of his life."
Steve's eyes pierce Sam and he swallows the emotion gathering at the base of his throat.
"He pulled me from the Potomac River, Sam. I have to know why. He should have let me die, he could have let me die, but he didn't. Whoever I fought on that ship? It wasn't Bucky. But the fact that he saved me tells me that somewhere, underneath that mask and all of that nasty Hydra programming, my best friend is still there, and he's fighting to survive. Bucky was -- is -- a good man. I know that if the roles were reversed, he'd look for me too."
Sam takes a deep breath and nods.
"Okay." His phone dings. "I got another lead from Natasha."
"Where?"
Sam grins.
"You feel like going to France, Cap?"
Steve sighs. He's exhausted, but he can sleep when he finds Bucky.
"Sure."
"Oh, come on!" Sam exclaims, throwing an arm around Steve's shoulder as they walk toward the car. "Pretty French girls, all the bread you can eat, great wine--"
"I can't get drunk."
"No, but you can appreciate it," Sam replies. "And you will."
"Why do I feel like this is turning into a vacation for you?" Steve asks.
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