[ It was never gonna be the shield. It was never gonna be the notebook, either. Those aren't exactly realizations he can push Bucky towards. Has to let him work through that for himself.
Tough love is a conversation they had under specific circumstances. But Sam's not about to leave Bucky out in the cold, even if they're out of sync in ways that hurt to think about. It's still Bucky, in the end. And that matters. ]
My nephews adore you.
[ Sam taps his fingers on the table in thought for a moment. ]
Cass ain't shutting up about you or to you. AJ mostly runs after you like a duckling that imprinted. I think I've also seen like three kids just dangling off your arm like it was a hanging bar while you were talking to my sister. You messed up the cake, though. Seriously, I give you one job, Buck. Take my truck, drive your ass to the store, buy a cake, bring it back. And what do you do? You mess the cake up 'cause you gotta playfight with my nephews.
[ It was a good time, honestly, and Sam aches for them. The boys, Sarah. Home. He hopes this isn't like the blip - that they're not at home, and he's gone without a trace.
Best not think about that. It makes his fingertips tingle, like he can feel himself turning to dust again any second now.
A measured breath. He puts his hand on the shield, fingertips absentmindedly tracing along the star. ]
You want some tough love to go with the anecdotes?
no subject
Tough love is a conversation they had under specific circumstances. But Sam's not about to leave Bucky out in the cold, even if they're out of sync in ways that hurt to think about. It's still Bucky, in the end. And that matters. ]
My nephews adore you.
[ Sam taps his fingers on the table in thought for a moment. ]
Cass ain't shutting up about you or to you. AJ mostly runs after you like a duckling that imprinted. I think I've also seen like three kids just dangling off your arm like it was a hanging bar while you were talking to my sister. You messed up the cake, though. Seriously, I give you one job, Buck. Take my truck, drive your ass to the store, buy a cake, bring it back. And what do you do? You mess the cake up 'cause you gotta playfight with my nephews.
[ It was a good time, honestly, and Sam aches for them. The boys, Sarah. Home. He hopes this isn't like the blip - that they're not at home, and he's gone without a trace.
Best not think about that. It makes his fingertips tingle, like he can feel himself turning to dust again any second now.
A measured breath. He puts his hand on the shield, fingertips absentmindedly tracing along the star. ]
You want some tough love to go with the anecdotes?