AMOTM

It's so very Sam-like, always the caretaker, the fixer, the grounded one.

"It was too big. Too many people died, and everyone was off fighting their own causes. And I didn't mean to be famous, I just . . ."

"We all fought the nazis in our own ways, Steve," Sam reminds him, and yes, Steve knew that, which is why he never asked for help. He knew he and Bucky could work successfully with the Americans, and they would have, if Bucky hadn't been captured.

"Where the hell is Bucky?" Sam asks sternly, noticing the way Steve's hands shake and taking charge of the situation. It's the whole reason he was and is Steve's equal, his twin; they've both been through hell with their partners.

"He's — he was taken by the Germans, and they experimented on him before I could rescue him. And the nazi bastards did something to him, Sam, so that he isn't healing as he should. They pulled us out of the ice, and Bucky is still injured, and there's nothing I can do."

Sam sits back in his chair again and steeples his fingers. The wheels are turning in his head so quickly that Steve can practically see them.

"Who are 'they'?"

It sounds just like Steve asking Romanov what they meant by 'others'.

"A spy team based in New York. They got to us first, before the Russians. Apparently, Bucky's secret was intended for them after Hitler fell from power."

Sam looks incredulous. His brows almost meet the curl of his hairline.

"The nazis donated Bucky to the Russians?"

"Yes, if they could find him." Steve is feeling more and more miserable now, not only because of the distance from his heart's match, but because Steve never should have let despair get the better — or worst — of him. Sam's right, he should have asked for help. If he had, they wouldn't be in this mess.

"So now the Americans —"

"Not the Americans," Steve interrupts. "A private company owned by Tony Stark. I served with his father in Europe."

Sam pushes out of his chair and comes around the desk, sitting on the edge, one long leg braced with his foot on the floor, the other swinging free.

"And this Stark is holding Bucky hostage?"

"No! Yes! I mean —"

Steve takes a deep breath to pull himself together. "They're helping him, keeping him safe while he heals."

"And you're sure they're not intending to do the very same thing the Germans and the Russians want him for?"

That's the thing. Steve isn't sure. The only thing he's sure of, in fact, is that it's his fault Bucky is in the state he's in, and now he has a chance to make things better.

"I want to introduce you to the team leader. She can explain it so much better than I can. I promise she's on the level."

Sam doesn't seem the least bit convinced. He always was the voice of reason and a stubborn bastard.

"She's recruiting," he guesses, correct. "And she sent you to talk to me as a token of trust."

Steve frowns and hangs his head. "I don't know what else to do. I made a deal with her that I'd let her tell you her story, and she'd do what she could for Bucky. And if you refuse, if the others do too, then Bucky and I walk, no strings attached."

Sam is looking right through Steve, into his soul, rooting around for the truth, and finding it.

"OK, I believe you. I'll come and listen to what this woman has to say. Both Riley and I will. Then, after she's had her say, I'm going to speak my piece about how she's taking advantage of the best man ever created."

He grins, and Steve can't stop smiling back up at him.

"OK."

So Sam takes Steve home to Riley, where the two husbands catch Steve up to speed on the last one hundred years, including the battle they fought against hunger and racism and the punishing African climate. Riley, like Sam, peers at Steve as if he can see beneath his skin. After dinner, it's he who pulls Steve aside and holds Steve's hands inside his own.

"I can help," he offers, "with Bucky's healing. In the eighties and nineties, Sam and I did a lot of outreach for AIDs patients, including talking to doctors and scientists looking for treatments. I still have a few friends in Medicine, still have a few projects going."

"Why, Riley, you sly devil! Keeping secrets from Sam and working behind his back?"

"He knows," says Sam, appearing from around a corner to join them in the hallway. "And I think it's a great idea. I can go with you to visit the others, and Riley can stay with Bucky. I think we'd both feel a little better about this with a man on the inside."

"Oh, thank you."

Back in New York, the weather at the airport is the complete opposite, except for the wind. Temperatures have dropped below zero, and although Steve is warm in Stark-approved gear, he still feels the bite of winter wind a little sharper than he can ever remember it before. He tried to reason with himself that lying frozen for so long should have made him more resilient. The truth is, it serves as a reminder of the icy tomb he'd doomed himself and his partner to, and he's very glad they made it out.

Right away, Steve can tell Natasha doesn't want to let Sam and Riley anywhere near Bucky. She stands with her arms crossed in the hallway, shoulders rigid and lips pursed. Claiming liability and insurance reasons, she agrees to let Steve in, but not the newcomers, no matter what kind of background they have. It does more harm than good as far as honesty goes.

Funnily enough, it's Clint who advocates for them.

"You know, Tash," he says, sidling beside her and leaning in, smirking, "we are recruiting trust more than anything."

"So you are recruiting!" Sam shouts in an 'a-ha, gotcha' manner, and Romanov glares at Barton.

Clint just shrugs. "You really gonna back Stark up on all the legal mumbo jumbo when you know he's trying to screw us around every corner?"

An awkward moment passes when Natasha continues to glare at Clint, and Clint just smiles calmly back at her. They don't speak, either aloud or signing, and Steve can't see the moment one of them backs down, but it ends when Romanov spins on her heel and marches in the opposite direction.

Barton looks very smug as he glances at Steve and his friends. "She's a great girl, really, just . . ."

He trails off.

"Severe?" Sam offers.

"Scary?" adds Steve.

Riley sighs and shakes his head. "Misunderstood."

Clint's eyebrows lift as he grins wide. "Exactly!"

They follow her down to the infirmary, where she's already entered and allowed the door to close behind her. Barton doesn't have access, which Sam argues is not something partners should keep from each other. Clint complains that he doesn't have clearance,' and Steve asks, "Partners? As in —"

The pride on the man's face is a good enough answer.

"Huh."

The door opens and Natasha's head pokes out. She hands them each a badge, Clint pressing his to his mouth and kissing it, then lets them inside in a tight line.

Bucky is almost exactly as he was when Steve left, and his soul throbs with sorrow and joy in interwoven quantities. He goes to him, presses a hand to his chest over the warming blanket, and seeks out any kind of change in the man's features.

Riley joins him, feeling Bucky's pulse and reading the monitors with professional and passionate scrutiny. Sam files in behind his husband and says, as if it's blatantly obvious, "He's hypothermic, still?"

"That's impossible," Riley says, confirming Steve's beliefs. "How long has he been like this?"

"Let me get the head tech," Natasha declares before disappearing into an adjoining room. She comes back with a tall, thin, beautifully terrifying woman. Steve briefly wonders if it's necessary to be good-looking to work here.

"This is Dr. Shuri. She's in charge of Bucky's recovery."

Dr. Shuri takes them all in and seems to be biting her tongue. She opens her mouth once and then closes it, as if thinking better.

Riley steps up and introduces all of them, then rattles off the list of his degrees and accomplishments, which would seem falsified and braggart-ly if one didn't know he'd lived for centuries. Dr. Shuri very smartly does not argue.

The only thing she says to Riley, as she tips her head toward Sam, is, "This is your husband?"

Her accent is also very beautiful.

Steve is confused, and Sam is too, but Riley simply beams and answers, "Yes. Yes, he is."

Of all the things that could soften the tension, it's this that does it.

Dr. Shuri nods and explains what she's already told Steve. "There is something in Mr. Barnes' physiology that is preventing him from warming to regular body temperature. Mr. Rogers told us that he was subjected to experimentation of an unknown nature before their crash in the Arctic Ocean. We think this is what's interfering with his healing process, and we're trying to pinpoint what exactly it is."

She turns her deep brown eyes on Steve and her expression fades back into her default disdain. "Mr. Rogers will not allow us to take blood samples from himself to compare the difference, fearing that we will use the information to replicate him and create some kind of super soldier army."

Riley surprises everyone by laughing. "What?"

Dr. Shuri turns back to him, shocked. "It is nothing to laugh at, Mr. Wilson! Not only is he preventing his friend's recovery, but he's blocking important research!"

"I'm sorry," Riley continues to chuckle, turning as red as his hair, covering his mouth as if that will stop whatever is amusing him. "Steve can be a stubborn sonofabitch, especially when it comes to his Bucky. But you can use my blood instead, if that will work?"

Both Sam and Steve shout together, "No!"

"Relax!" Riley placates them with both hands. "You really think they can recreate an eternal being? The whole principle behind The Sacred Band of Thebes was that the only way to make more immortals was to birth them; thus, the whole gay partner thing!"

Now Steve feels like an ass, even while he puckers up about revealing that secret to these people.

"And they didn't know about trans people in 400 BC," Clint adds, nodding along like a bobble head dog and thoroughly enjoying the proceedings.

"Shit, you're right," agrees Sam, speaking directly to Barton. "Under no circumstances were any male-female combinations allowed, and I'm talking gender as it was determined back in those days."

"We're not in the business of making more of you," corrects Natasha, looking just as stern as Shuri. "We want to take down the dictators and their money men, people like Elon Musk who use their riches to actively harm other people. Hopefully, we can prevent another genocide before it's too late."

Steve has no idea who this Muskrat guy is, but Sam seems to. "Oh yeah? Wouldn't mind taking a stab at that asshole myself."

"Doesn't everyone?" asks Clint.

All this while, Steve has been running his fingers through Bucky's hair, drinking in his soul's fill, syncing their heartbeats once again. They were only apart for a few days, but Bucky's is beating a little slower than his own. He's pretty sure that's what's causing the ache that never seems to go away. That and not getting to speak to Bucky, to discuss their current situation and make plans on what to do.

Sam is picking up that duty, though.

"All right, here's what we'll do." He pauses for a deep breath, crossing his arms over his chest. "Riley will stay here and help Dr. Shuri figure out what's going on with Bucky. And Steve and I will see what we can do about recruiting others."

Steve meets his friend's gaze, all kinds of concerned. "You're OK with the recruiting?"

This time, Sam laughs. "Now that I know they're not trying to make gods or demi-gods? Somebody has to prevent another Hitler, seeing as the current world governments are hell-bent on the rich getting richer. If we can take down Musk, maybe the other millionaire billionaires will un-pucker their assholes and back the causes we want them to."

Everyone turns to gape at Sam. He looks hastily around the room and stutters to explain his outburst.

"I just really hate that guy."