Bucky's Anchor

Chapter 54 - Confronting Captain America

The tension in the air was palpable as Sam, Bucky, and I made our way through the city. After the run-in with the Flag Smashers, we knew it wouldn't be long before someone came to try and rein us in—someone like John Walker.

We'd barely made it back to the safe house when we heard a familiar voice from behind.

"Hey, guys!" John Walker's voice boomed, his tone confident, but there was something unsettling about his presence. I exchanged a quick glance with Bucky, and his jaw was already clenched.

We turned to see Walker approaching with his shield strapped to his back, the symbol of Steve hanging over him like a weight he didn't fully understand. Lamar Hoskins, Walker's partner, stood just behind him, looking much more relaxed but still keeping an eye on us.

"Captain America," Walker said, holding out a hand as if that title would somehow make us forget the growing animosity between us. "Glad I could catch up with you."

Bucky stared at the outstretched hand but made no move to take it. "You're not him."

Walker's smile faltered, but he quickly recovered. "No, I'm not. But I think we can work together. We're on the same side."

I stepped forward, sensing Bucky's growing agitation. "We don't need a replacement for Steve, Walker. We need solutions, not more symbols."

Sam nodded, arms crossed as he watched the exchange. "You think just because you have the shield, we're gonna follow your lead?"

Walker looked taken aback, then forced a grin. "This isn't about taking Steve's place. It's about doing what's right. We're fighting the same battle."

I shook my head, crossing my arms. "It's not about the shield or the title. It's about understanding what they meant. And right now, I'm not sure you do."

Walker's expression hardened. "You don't get to decide that. I'm Captain America now."

Bucky stepped forward, his voice low but firm. "You don't know what that means."

I could feel the tension growing between them, and I reached out to place a hand on Bucky's arm, silently reminding him to stay calm. The last thing we needed was this escalating further.

"We all have the same goal," Lamar said, trying to ease the situation. "We want to stop the Flag Smashers. It's just a matter of how we get there."

Sam nodded slowly, but his posture remained tense. "You're new to this game, Walker. You don't just walk in with a shield and expect everyone to fall in line."

Walker's eyes narrowed. "You gave up that shield, Wilson. You didn't want it."

Sam's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond, and I could see Bucky stiffen beside me. The room felt like a pressure cooker ready to blow.

"We're done here," Bucky muttered, turning away, clearly ready to leave before things got worse.

Walker watched him go, frustration evident on his face. "Look, we can do this together, or we can keep getting in each other's way."

I turned to Walker, keeping my voice calm. "We'll figure this out our way, Walker. Thanks for the offer, but we don't need you."

With that, we left, the tension from the encounter hanging heavy in the air.

---

After leaving Walker and Hoskins behind, Bucky was silent. He hadn't spoken a word since we walked out of that meeting, and I knew better than to push him right away. He was angry, and when Bucky got like this, it was best to let him cool off before trying to talk.

We made our way back to the safe house, Sam following behind us, his brow furrowed in thought.

"That guy really doesn't get it," Sam muttered as we walked.

"No, he doesn't," I agreed, glancing over at Bucky. His expression was stormy, his fists clenched at his sides. He wasn't just angry about Walker. He was angry about the shield, about what it represented, and the fact that someone else was carrying it now—someone who hadn't earned it the way Steve had.

Once we were inside, Sam turned to Bucky. "You need to calm down, man. Walker's not worth getting all worked up over."

Bucky spun around, his eyes blazing with frustration. "It's not just him! He's walking around with that shield, acting like it makes him something he's not. It's not his to carry."

Sam frowned, crossing his arms. "You think I don't know that? You think it doesn't piss me off too? But this isn't about us anymore. It's about stopping the Flag Smashers."

Bucky let out a harsh laugh, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, and look where we are now—stuck working with that guy because the world thinks he's the new Captain America."

I stepped forward, placing a hand on Bucky's arm again. "Bucky, this isn't about him. It's about what we're trying to do—together. Don't let him get inside your head."

He looked down at me, his jaw tight, but his expression softened slightly. "I just can't stand seeing someone else carry that shield like it's a costume."

"I know," I said quietly, my thumb rubbing gentle circles on his arm. "But Steve made his choice, and now we have to figure out how to move forward."

Sam nodded. "We'll take care of this. We don't need Walker, and we don't need the government to do what's right."

Bucky stared at the ground, clearly wrestling with the emotions churning inside him. I wanted to tell him about the baby, to give him something positive to hold onto, but now didn't feel like the right time. Not with everything hanging in the balance.

Instead, I gave him a small, reassuring smile. "We'll figure this out, together."

He nodded slowly, still not saying much, but I could tell the worst of his anger had passed. Sam shot me a grateful look, and I knew we'd just narrowly avoided a blow-up.

---

Later that evening, Bucky and I were alone, the dim light from the street outside casting shadows across the room. He was sitting at the table, staring at his hands, lost in thought. I knew this wasn't just about Walker. This was about everything—the weight of the past, the uncertainty of the future, and the pressure of living up to a legacy he never asked for.

I sat down next to him, my heart heavy with my own secret. I wanted so badly to tell him about the baby, to let him know that there was something good in all of this chaos, but I just couldn't find the right moment. He was already carrying so much.

"You okay?" I asked softly, even though I already knew the answer.

He looked up at me, his eyes filled with a mix of frustration and sadness. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice rough. "It feels like everything's slipping away, like we're losing control of what matters."

I reached out, taking his hand in mine. "You're not losing control, Bucky. You're doing the best you can with what you have. And that's all anyone can ask of you."

He squeezed my hand, but his expression didn't change. "I just... I don't know what Steve would want me to do."

I leaned in, pressing my forehead against his. "Steve wanted you to live your life, Bucky. He wanted you to find peace."

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "I'm trying. I really am."

I smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. "And that's enough. We'll get through this, together."

For a moment, he was quiet, then he pulled me into a tight embrace, holding onto me like I was the only thing keeping him grounded. I held him just as tightly, my heart aching with the weight of what I still hadn't told him.

Soon, I thought to myself. I'll tell him soon.

But for now, we sat together in the quiet, finding comfort in each other as the world around us continued to spin out of control.