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A/N: words: 952. Ello everyone. These last few ones have been short, but I'm planning a full fic that should come out soon (I hope). So yeah, enjoy!

Sam and Bucky sat at the table, the moonlight creeping through the window. They had both woken up from nightmares, and met downstairs to get some water. It had clearly not been a good one for either of them, as the silent tears still ran down their cheeks. They hadn't said a word since they sat down, just deep in thoughts.

Some nights, Sam could barely process the nightmares. This was one of those nights. Memories of being on the run, met with the reality that those two are gone. It was a lot, he just wanted them to stop. If he could have them back, for 5 minutes, just to see them, hold them. He let a few more tears fall faster, as the thoughts hit him like a ton of bricks. He just wanted to see them, hear Nat's laugh, see Steve's golden hair walk through the door one more time.

"Sam? Are you ok?" he heard Bucky's voice from across the table and met his eyes. He nodded slowly and wiped his tears away. "Yeah, I'm good, just thinking." Sam replied, not taking his eyes off of Bucky. Bucky didn't buy it. "You wanna talk about it?" he asked earnestly, and Sam sighed, nodding sheepishly.

Bucky moved to the seat next to Sam, and Sam's gaze never fell. Bucky took a deep breath and found Sam's chocolate brown eyes that he could swim in. "What was it about?" Bucky asked softly, gently. Sam took a deep, shaky breath. "Steve and Nat, being on the run, stuff like that. I just, I really miss them," Sam explained, tears still falling, "we didn't even get to say goodbye, not really. Nat had a family, us, and now, she fell through our fingers. I feel like we let her down. Like I let her down. And Steve, I'm happy he got what he wanted, but god, a warning might've been nice." Sam said, letting it all out, and Bucky nodded, crying himself now.

"I know, but it's not your fault. I get, grief is something that lives in us, but you can't blame your self for it. Nat's not dead because of you, she died believing in us, she died for us to come back. To come home. And Steve, I know what you're feeling, believe me, but he wanted to leave, he wanted to go back. He was the man out of time. He told me he didn't feel like he belonged in this century. That's why he left." Bucky said, a single tear following, and he smiled. So did Sam. But then something crept into his mind.

"Why didn't you go with him?" Sam questioned, "Aren't you a man out of time?". Bucky sighed, and looked at Sam, looked at the dark skin littered with scars, the brown eyes that dazzled in the light, still red and puffy. "Sam. I couldn't leave you. You, you're the first person I've met that genuinely brought me out of my shell. You're the first person who didn't shy away from me. Someone who didn't know the old me, and who didn't need to. And I didn't want to leave you. I knew you'd need someone. And given our history, I figured I'd be that someone." Bucky explained, and Sam smiled wider, but he shook his head. "You shouldn't have just stayed for me. I'm not worth that." Bucky rolled his eyes at Sam's statement, laughing softly.

"Sam. I didn't want to go back. I knew I couldn't. And I couldn't leave you. I couldn't have left your brown eyes, your toothy smile, your loud and genuine laugh. I couldn't leave that. I couldn't leave this." Bucky said, and Sam nodded, smiling, and blushing. "Damn Barnes." was all he said, and Bucky laughed, getting the nerve to grab Sam's hand, and he brushed his thumb against Sam's.

They sat in silence again, but it was different. No sorrow in the air. Just truth. No tears, just them. It was comforting. The silence was nice and peaceful. Reflective of the night. The calm breeze blowing through the window, the moonlight shining through the glass, reflecting off of Bucky's metal arm. Something was still eating away at Sam, though. And he didn't know why.

"What did you mean by 'this'?" Bucky raised an eyebrow at Sam. "What?" Bucky asked, nose scrunching in confusion. Sam laughed quietly and went on to explain. "You said you couldn't leave this," Bucky nodded, "what is 'this'?". Bucky understood, and he smiled. Then, he gestured around to the Wilson's kitchen. "This. If I had left, I would never have gotten this. A feeling that I truly belonged. I yearned for that, all my life. And with you and your family, I finally found it. Home." Bucky explained, and Sam grinned at him. "Good, I'm glad."

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A little while later, they made their way to their separate beds, feeling a lot better. The thing is, Sam still can't fall asleep. Not because of nightmares, but because he feels like he's missing something, he just doesn't know what. He desperately tried to fall asleep, until he hears a knock at the door.

Bucky stood on the other side, a slight smile on his face. "Can't sleep." Bucky said, as Sam swung open the door. Sam raised an eyebrow. "Nightmares?" Sam asked hesitantly. Bucky just shook his head. "No, I just missed you." Sam rolled his eyes, but stepped aside, so Bucky could walk into the room. "You missed me? You're a dork." Sam said, as Bucky shuffled under the covers. "Yep." Bucky agreed, and Sam made his way into the bed.

"Good night, Sam." Bucky said from beside him. Sam smiled. "Good night, Buck." 

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