"I never said that, Sam. It's just that..." You took a deep breath, "if you and Bucky both ended up in two separate situations where you both needed him, who do you think he'd reach first?" You stared at him, waiting for his answer, nodding and looking away when he remained silent.
"Y/N..." He started.
"He cares about us Sam. He really does care a lot. It's in his nature to care about people, that's what makes him so amazing." You sighed, wishing you felt differently about this. "It's just that...no matter what happens, Bucky knows perfectly well that Steve will always reach him when he needs help. You and me, we're another story. He will come for us, but only if and when he can. Bucky has the assurance of 'always'. We don't. We know deep down that if Bucky is in trouble, Steve will go to him first, and us second. We have to keep a backup for ourselves. Bucky will never need a backup."
A sudden realisation dawned upon him, and Sam watched you intently. He knew what was going on in your mind.
"I'm not mad at him for that, and I'm not jealous of Bucky. I swear I'm not." You continued, wrapping your hands around the coffee mug and shuffling closer to your best friend. "Steve and Bucky...they've known each other all their lives, they have a bond that runs deeper than that of lifelong friends. They're two halves of the same soul at this point. So I get it, all of it. I truly do. I just..." You drew in a shaky breath. "There's nothing to do about it really. It's good to prioritise people, else you'd be all over the place. Honestly, it's heartwarming too, watching the two of them with each other. I've never seen Steve smile more than he does around Bucky. So...it's okay. I'm okay. Or I will be. Whatever. It's fine."
Sam pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, then in his usual deadpan fashion, he dropped the bombshell.
"You love him."
You snapped your head up. "What-"
"We all love him, deeply. But you're in love with him."
Uh-oh.
You turned your gaze away from him, clenching your teeth to avoid crumbling. You knew he was right, but for the life of you, you couldn't accept it out loud. It would only hurt so much more. Sam, however, found all the answers he needed in your silence.
"I know what you're gonna say - I'm selfish, I'm crazy, and I'm overreacting. I understand that." You look down at your lap.
"Is that really what you think I was gonna say?"
"It's true, regardless."
"You know everything you're feeling is valid, right? You're not a bad person because of this."
"Still wish I didn't feel all of it. Sucks to have a heart."
"You should tell him."
"I can't."
"Not about Bucky. About you. He deserves to know."
"I can't tell him that either. Don't get me started on that conversation, please. I've had it with myself way too many times. Look, we're ex-Avengers, currently on the run. We have plenty of stuff to worry about, so this will fade. It only hurts this much right now."
Steve swallowed, trying to ease the tightness in his chest as he silently stood behind you two, listening to you talk. It all made sense now - you suddenly being short with him, refusing to let him come with you as you left for Budapest earlier that month, the cold shoulder you had been giving him all the time recently. He understood it all too well now; you were hurt. And you thought he might leave you alone if it meant he could get to Bucky first.
Were you right though?
Steve used to pride himself on being dependable and loyal, but for the first time ever...he realised, much to his shock, that he couldn't answer that question with absolute honesty without knowing the reply would break your heart even further.
Uh-oh.
He sniffled, then cursed himself for it, because now you two were both looking back at him, Sam's expression being one of mild surprise and "shit", and yours being that of pure shock.
"How long have you been standing there?" You asked, sharply, your voice hoarse.
"I'll give you two some space." Sam slid out of the vicinity quickly, his place now occupied by Steve's six-foot, two-hundred-pound frame.
"Look I'm sorry-" you stuttered out.
"If it's for pushing me away, then yes, you owe me an apology. Because that hurt." He said, doing his best to keep his tone level and calm.
"That...yes, that, and also-"
"Otherwise there's nothing to apologise for." He shot down whatever you were going to reply with.
You sat in awkward silence for a minute before he spoke up again, "Is it true, what Sam said?"
"Sam said a lot of things, Rogers." You said flatly.
"Do you love me?" He asked quietly.
You debated with yourself over the best way to respond to this, then shrugged nonchalantly. "No more than everyone else does."
That's a lie, even I can tell, Steve thought.
He patted your knee, making you look up at him, then stared deeply into your eyes. "Come here," he said softly, opening his arms.
You looked up at him with narrowed eyes, before giving in and letting him pull you into himself.
And that's when the dam broke.
"I'm so sorry," you whispered and he shook his head.
"Don't be, please, sweetheart."
"It's true," you croaked out in response to his earlier question, as you cried into his shirt. He rubbed your back slowly, resting his chin on top of your head while holding back his own tears.
The words were on the tip of his tongue. he was so ready and willing to say it and yet...it felt shallow when he said them aloud in his head. He didn't think telling you he felt the same would mean much in this moment. So he kept quiet, choosing to simply hold you instead, doing his best to physically comfort you.
Because as much as he hated to admit it...you were unfortunately right. Bucky was his number one, and even though you were an extremely close second...that's just it - you were, after all, second.
