Amends (Sambucky)

Chapter Fifty-One

"There's gotta be something you're able to do. Why would you even come?"

"Do not summon me here and make demands. I have just as much at stake as you," Corina warned, "We should take a second here. Regroup."

Sam perked up as Corina's phone began buzzing, more rested than he was earlier. Sure, he was off schedule because it was midnight, but the sleep did him good anyway.

"Hello?" she answered the phone while keeping a glare on Bucky. Then her face dropped, "It's you."

"Who?" Bucky demanded, but she had already hung up the phone and opened a text.

S: We want Sam alive. Not many can say the same.

Attachment: one file

"What? What is it?" Sam shoved his way to the phone, then paled at the document. It was a mission order for Sharon, underneath the U.S. government, to capture and detain Samuel T. Wilson. Dead or alive.

"How— they can't do that, right? He didn't done anything wrong," Bucky denied, turning to Sam, "We haven't done anything wrong, have we?"

"No, but it makes sense. The powerbroker's army can't be created without Sam to test on, and the powerbroker can't test him if he's dead," Corina explained, "I'm sure they don't want to kill him, but they will take the steps necessary to protect this country."

Bucky shook his head, "No. No, we've gotta go. We're moving."

"Why? So they can just find me later?" Sam questioned, "We need to face Sharon because she's probably the one who told the CIA I was a threat, and I'm sure she won't stop there. Those people are in danger, and they won't realize it until we have proof that she's playing everyone, including the government."

Bucky stared incredulously, "What? No. Sam, there's a misinformed CIA team on their way to kill you; there's a misinformed group of hostages on their way to have you captured and tortured— we aren't going to sit here and wait for shit to blow up!"

"They're brainwashed. Those teams deserve a chance, and who knows how many people Sharon will kill to get what she wants?" Sam pushed.

Bucky didn't cave.

"Listen to me, Sam. I understand that people are at risk, but they are people who are willing to kill you; people who have condemned you based on what they've been told, people who see you as the enemy—,"

"It wouldn't be the first time," Sam corrected, causing Bucky to stop in his tracks, "I am judged daily based on my appearance, on the color of my skin. I understand that my reputation precedes me; I knew that when I picked up the shield. If I condemned people for bias they were conditioned to have, I wouldn't be helping anyone. Even you are guilty."

Bucky fell silent. He wanted to argue, but he also lived through the twenties and thirties America, and he couldn't say with confidence that he'd never been racist.

"Listen, James," Sam approached Bucky softly, grabbing his arms in reassurance, "I understand that you're worried, and you're scared. So please, take Corina and get the hell out of here, but I'm staying. This is my job."

Corina tilted her head, having eavesdropped the whole time, "That might be the best solution."

"No," Bucky crossed his arms, turning away, "I'm staying with you."

Sam raised an eyebrow in surprise, resisting the urge to reference how Bucky had shot him down multiple times in the past few days. How he pushed Sam further away than he thought possible, only to contradict himself later.

Sam wasn't really a quitter, but his heart was tired of constantly being tested.

"Why tease me?" he couldn't resist, "Why pretend like you want to be together?"

Bucky sighed, "There's no teasing. I don't want to be with you like that, but I am your partner. I won't leave you."

Sam shook his head, unable to look at Bucky, "You should."

"What?"

"It's shitty to stay," Sam admitted, "You're too cowardly to be with me, and too selfish to let me go. I can hardly look at you."

A flash of hurt broke Bucky's face, but he quickly covered it. Steve could hardly stand to look at him after his fall as well; he supposed that's why they drifted. Steve clung so hard onto the old Bucky that he knew and loved, and Bucky was everything except that.

He also supposed that's why he liked Sam. He accepted him as he was in spite of everything. Even now, all Sam did was stand by Bucky and ask him to stay true to himself.

And he couldn't even do that.

On the other hand though, Sam had never professed his love or reassured Bucky, because he didn't need to. He didn't need Bucky; he only wanted him.

Sure, Sam would be upset now, but he would be better off later. Eventually Bucky too, because how was he to stay with Sam when he felt like Sam barely liked him back? Sam was his world, and he was just Sam's latest admirer.

Despite that, he persevered.

"I'm your partner," he insisted, despite the heaviness in his chest at Sam's rejection, "I won't leave you when you need me most; it's wrong. I'm staying with you, because I'm with you until—...."

Bucky cut himself off before Sam furrowed his eyebrows, watching him struggle.

"Until—.....um," he saved himself from that disaster, having heard distant footsteps.

"Until what? Until I get too close again?" Sam inquired sharply, failing to notice Bucky's shifted focus.

"No," he raised a hand up to signal for Sam's silence, which he received. He approached the leg of the wood where he'd heard the noise, and  Sam followed beside him.

"Then until when?" he huffed.

Bucky shook his head, "Don't make this personal. It's unprofessional to date colleagues either way."

"Don't make it personal? What the hell, James?! It is personal. It's been personal since you kissed me! It's personal because I would never do this to you!" Sam poured himself before Bucky, only to receive no response.

Instead, Bucky was leaned over, eyes squinted as he searched the wood. Sam balled his fist in anger,

"What?! What is it? What could you possibly hear—,"

"Watch out!"

Bucky slammed his face onto the dirt, his arms around Sam as he'd hoped to protect him.

It didn't matter.

He was too late.