The Price We Pay for Family - 9

 

Cont...

Sam watched as Shuri ran a diagnosis on Bucky's arm sitting on their kitchen counter. 

He'd fought about everybody who was somebody in Washington but at the end had convinced them this was a good idea.

 This was not a good idea. 

But they were too far in to go back now. 

Bucky had called Shuri and had explained what he was about to do. She was on a jet to them within the hour. Right now, she was installing state-of-the-art trackers into the arm so that you would have thought they were part of the arm. They'd injected Bucky with a tracking chip a few hours ago, and it was transmitting well. Rhodes had also insisted that Bucky practically bathe in satellite tracking liquid for extra precaution. So now they could find him with cell towers, Wakanda tech, and all US satellites.

 None of it helped Sam's nerves. He still needed to have a serious conversation with Bucky about what they were walking into, and he had a sinking feeling that all the trackers in the world wouldn't stop what was about to happen. His nerves were at their limits. 

He was about to let, no, help his best friend walk back into the life they'd gotten him out of years ago. The life he was still terrified of. Sam's nerves weren't just frayed; they were shot. What he was about to assist with made him physically ill. But this was very much happening, and denial wasn't going to get him anywhere. 

Sam looked past Shuri and out to Bucky,  staring at the water sitting on the porch steps. He was staring a lot more than usual and had gotten a lot quieter. It worried Sam almost more than what they were about to do. 

Sarah had been at Bucky's side almost non-stop, a comforting presence through it all. Sam couldn't believe how he was just now seeing how his sister helped Bucky without even opening her mouth. 

When they had gone to inject him with the tracker, Sarah started singing right out of the blue, humming under her breath as she watched them load the gun-like contraption. She hated shots, and being near that thing made her anxious, but her singing had completely captivated Bucky. He'd been tense with the medical equipment around, but the instant Sarah started whisper-singing, his shoulders had relaxed, and the muscles in his neck had loosened as his whole body sighed in relief. The injection had been painless because of how relaxed he was. Sam had watched the whole thing happen in amazement. 

Bucky was also good for Sarah. He would randomly grab her for a hug or press a kiss on her head. They were always next to each other throughout the day, soaking in each other's company like it was the last time they could. Sam didn't think about how real a possibility that was. Bucky was a calming presence for Sarah in all the fear and chaos, and Sam had watched as his sister unconsciously went to Bucky when everything happening was too much. She was scared, but she was also calm because of Bucky. 

Sam almost hated to say it, but Bucky and Sarah were good together, really good. But right now, Sarah wasn't next to Bucky or anywhere on the porch. Bucky was sitting alone, so Sam joined him. 

Sam sighed, sitting next to Bucky, "Of all the things, I never saw this coming."

 Bucky shifted, showing he'd heard Sam, and they sat in silence for a long time. "I did," Bucky said quietly. 

Sam looked over at him; two could play the waiting game. After another long moment, Bucky elaborated, "Saw me going back at least. I thought I'd really get free, then I did, and I thought maybe, maybe..." Bucky trailed off, staring at the water but eyes looking beyond what he could see. 

"Maybe?" Sam, promoted.

 Bucky swallowed hard, "Maybe I could stay free."

 Sam closed his eyes and let the weight and emotion of the words wash over him. The wistfulness was physically painful, the wish of a normal life, a second chance, a life without pain—Family, stability, guy that wanted all that went into the ice. I think someone else came out. Painfully wistful and bitter, Steve's voice rang through Sam's head. Bucky desperately wanted that too, Sam could tell, and now that he had it within his grasp, it was slipping away. 

Sam opened his eyes and looked over at Bucky, who hadn't moved at all, "You really think it's them? It's Hydra?" 

The name of the infamous organization made Bucky's eyes darken, but otherwise, there was no reaction, "It doesn't matter. I'm either dead or a lab rat by the end of this." 

The words were so bitter, so casual, so almost sarcastic that if you didn't know it, you would think Bucky simply didn't care. But Sam did know; he was the only one left who knew how to read Bucky in these hard moments, and Bucky was terrified and close to letting the emotions bubble to the top. Nothing Sam could say would help those feeling right now short of saying they had found the boys and this whole colossal bad decision could be aborted. So Sam asked the burning question he didn't want answered, "What do they want?"

Bucky snorted, a brittle, hard, bitter sound, "Revenge, chaos, a symbol, who knows?" 

Sam looked deeper and saw Bucky's eyes had a sheen to them, "What do you think?" 

Bucky finally looked down and squeezed his eyes closed, willing the tears away before looking back up and meeting Sam's gaze, "My blood." 

Sam almost didn't hear the answer, but the instant he did, everything made sense, "For the serum." 

Bucky nodded, "Yeah, for the cursed serum." 

Why hadn't Sam seen this coming? They'd been cutting off serum supplies left and right. Here they were destroying the market while one of only two super soldiers assisted. The irony was off the charts, and the logic was sickening. 

"Do you think they can do it?" Sam asked for no reason other than to be told what he already knew. 

"Nagel did it. Two years is enough time for someone else to figure it out too." Bucky shrugged. They sat there in that horrible realization for a long time.

 "I don't want to go back, Sam." Bucky breathed, voice thick, "I'd rather they kill me than go back. I don't- I can't, Sam." Bucky looked straight at Sam, open and vulnerable and so scared. His eyes were shining from unshed tears and memories growing too real, "I can't." Bucky's voice broke as he repeated his plea. 

Sam couldn't fix the past. He couldn't fix the present either. He couldn't fix what happened yesterday or what would happen today. He couldn't fix the situation or all the people milling around this house that didn't care what anyone felt. He couldn't fix the pain for fear Bucky was feeling, but he could fix one thing. 

He could fix how he responded. Nothing he said could change anything for anyone. But it could change how he felt, and maybe, it could change even a smidgen of what Bucky felt, even for a moment. And that would matter. 

So he leaned closer and held Bucky's gaze, "You're gonna be fine. The boys are going to be fine. Nothing is going to happen to you. You're gonna come home when this is all over. You're gonna come home."

 Bucky smiled ever so slightly at Sam's words, and Sam inwardly cheered. Then the smile changed to something different, still a smile but no more happiness. Bucky's eyes were sad and heavy but grateful, "Don't make a promise you can't keep Sam. Don't."

Tell me what you think in the comments!

Follow if you like it!