A/N: words: 1616. i am very sorry for updating late school is very much present in my life at the moment. but yeah, i really like this chapter and i dont really know why aha. anyway, enjoy!

The shield practically mocked him from the corner of the room. The red and blue screamed at him, the obnoxious colours scolded him for what he did, or what he didn't do, for that matter. He was giving the shield away, he'd come this far, he was giving it away. Sam knew this was the right thing to do, he knew that, there was no doubt in his mind about giving the shield away. But there was some nagging feeling in his chest that something was wrong.

Well, something was wrong, but it wasn't the shield. Sam didn't know exactly what it was, but the feeling was familiar, the feeling was... something like loneliness, maybe. Doesn't matter right now, anyway, because he promised Sarah he'd help down at the restaurant, so that's where he's going.

~~~~~~~~

"He text you back yet?" Sarah asked casually as she wiped down the counter. Sam sighed and leaned back against the counter. "No." he answered, shaking his head. Sarah offered him a sympathetic smile. "It's been, what, three weeks? He'll come around, lover boy." Sam chuckled, nodding his head. "I hope so." Does he? Does he hope so? He doesn't really want to see Bucky, he just wants a small: Hey, I'm fine, don't worry about me.

Sam can know it's a lie, and so can Bucky. Because it would be the biggest lie they've ever told. It's a lie they're quite familiar with, just not telling each other the lie. But if Sam just had some type of reassurance, even if he knew Bucky was lying just to get Sam off his back, he would take it. But, it doesn't look like he'll get that for a long time.

Sam must've zoned out, because when he looks around, he notices that he's the only one in the restaurant. Sarah must've slipped out the door, so quietly it didn't even break Sam's trance. The suns starting to set now, so Sam makes his way make to the house, shaking out of the thoughts of Bucky.

~~~~~~~~

"Sam! Sam!" Riley. Riley's falling, Riley's not stopping. Neither is Sam. But he's too late. Riley hits the ground. Sam was too late.

"You were too late." Bucky said from behind him. No, no he wasn't. There was nothing he could do. Bucky was lying. Bucky lied to Sam before, he was lying again. "No I wasn't, there was nothing I could've done." Sam muttered, and he felt small, he felt so small. He heard Bucky's dry chuckle, and he looked into the eyes that he hasn't seen in a month, and they weren't the same. They were brimmed red, they looked tired, they looked lonely. They didn't look like Bucky's. "Buck, what are you talking about?" Sam heard his words break and fall.

"You didn't get to him. It was you. Thats why he's not here. You killed him." Bucky's words sound too much like Bucky's to be fake. "No, no, you don't believe that. Neither do I." Sam told himself that as much as he was telling Bucky. "You should. Because I do."

That's when Sam woke up. There was sweat dripping down his forehead. He didn't want to believe it. But he couldn't get that image out of his head.

Riley. Riley falling. Bucky. Bucky's eyes. Bucky's words. The way Bucky didn't look like Bucky. The way he did. That's what scared Sam the most. The tears rolling down his cheeks didn't faze him. He barely registered them. What he did register, however, was the fact that as he kept processing the nightmare, it got harder to breathe. And harder. And harder. Until Sam was gasping for breath.

He steadied himself on the bed as he took deep breaths. He closed his eyes tight. Bucky. Bucky staring at him without his usual look. Riley falling. It was Sam's fault. All Sam's fault.

Sam snapped his eyes open, shaking his head. No it wasn't, it wasn't Sam's fault. There was nothing he could do, remember?

It wasn't Sam's fault.

It wasn't Sam's fault.

It wasn't.

It was.

It was Sam's fault.

All of it.

Sam was at fault for why Bucky's eyes were red, and lonely, and tired.

Sam was at fault for Riley falling.

He didn't catch him.

"And you've never ever let someone fall. Because you didn't drop Riley. And when he felt low, I'm sure you were that person to make him fly"

Bucky lied. Bucky lied a lot. That was just one of those times. The Bucky in the nightmare, the one who was hurt, by Sam, the one who was brutally honest because his heart was so brutally damaged, he was telling the truth. Sam knew it.

He barely realized that he was gasping for air again, the world around him crashing down, and there was nothing to stop it. He stumbled from his bed, trying to ground himself again. He catches a glint of metal from the corner of his eye, and for a fleeting moment, he thought it was Bucky's metal arm. But now, Bucky wouldn't be there to comfort him. Bucky wasn't here. Bucky didn't care. Bucky didn't respond.

Bucky was gone. Not dead, gone, out of Sam's reach. Probably still in that apartment. But Bucky still wouldn't help him. Sam heard him say that it was his fault. In the corner of his eyes, he saw a glint of metal, and he almost thought it was Bucky. Alas, it was his dog tags, that hung from a knob on his nightstand. He reached out in a shaky hand, hoping that maybe this would ground him.

He remembered how the cool metal would brush against his arm, or his chest, each morning he woke up beside Bucky. How the 2 sets of the 2 pieces of metal that hung around both their necks as they slept would sometimes lie across the other mans heart.

He remembered the day Sam and Riley swapped, how it was mere weeks before he was... before he was gone. Nothing more than a distant memory and a faded photo. How in hushed voices, they'd promise to never let go of each other.

But they did. Riley fell. Even if Sam didn't drop him, he let him go, he let him fall. He was too late. He killed him.

Sam felt like he was dying. Nothing made sense anymore. He felt like the world was spinning. He could barely register the way he fell over his feet as he made his way towards to his closet. He didn't even know what he was doing. He was searching for something. What?

He feels a familiar sweater in his grasp and pulls it over his head. In the morning, when he's in a clearer state of mind, he'll remember its Bucky's. And he'll tear it off, disgusted maybe. Or he won't. Or, he'll stay in the comfort of the ghost that surrounds him with the sweater. The sweater that Bucky wore on the day in Bucharest when Sam found the ring. When they first danced to ABBA by the docks as they watched water flow.

Maybe he will, maybe he won't. He'll make the decision in the morning. Right now, he practically fell back into his bed, grabbing the dog tags on the table, and held them tight in his hand. Riley's name was clear as day. Nothing else was. The room was dark, the curtains shut closed, not even letting in the slight light the moon cast over the world.

Sam cried. Sam cried and cried and cried. He needed to talk this through with something, someone. He reached for his phone... and he called Bucky. It wasn't his best decision, hell, he probably wouldn't make it any other time.

Ring

Bucky, please.

Ring

I need your help Buck.

Ring.

You were lying, why?

Ring

Of course.

Leave a message

"Buck, I'm sorry, I probably shouldn't even do this, because you know, everything, but I just." Sam takes a deep breath. "I had a nightmare I couldn't shake, and I needed to hear myself talk. Hear myself breathe. I couldn't think of anyone else so, uh, yeah. Um, I'm really sorry, call me back if you can. Bye, lo-" Sam hangs up before he could say one more word. Love you. He thought he did. He thought he loved Bucky. He was just lying to himself. No, he was believing Bucky's lies. Those are two very different things.

Sam set the phone down on his bedside table and finally just... realized what was going on. He hadn't stopped crying, he hadn't stopped shaking. His mind hadn't stopped racing. The world hadn't stopped spinning.

But Riley's heart stopped beating.

And Bucky probably stopped caring.

Sam just wished he could stop hurting.

~~~~~~~~~

"Um, I'm really sorry, call me back if you can. Bye, lo-" Bucky replayed the message over and over and over again. Sam had a nightmare. He called Bucky. He almost said- he almost said love you, it was quite obvious. And Bucky still hadn't fully wrapped his mind around.

Everything about the voicemail was heartbreaking, from Sam's voice to Sam's words to the way Bucky knows what Sam's feeling. He's seen the look in the other man's eyes. He's seen the look in his own eyes, too. He really wants to reach out, ask if he's ok, but Bucky's a coward. He isn't reaching out in fear of him continuing this argument, in fear of pushing Sam away. He was selfish, and he was a coward, and he was petty. Bucky just wished Sam didn't have to take the beating because of that.

Bucky sets the phone down, saving the voicemail before closing his eyes. One day, everything should work itself out. That was not going to be any time soon.