show me what this life is for (i won’t run away this time)
Summary:
Loki got bored. Sylvie was in a betting mood. Mobius was feeling romantic. Chaos ensues.
OR
Trapped in a 72-hour time loop of Hydra’s takedown, Sam and Bucky get stuck on repeat. Each reset of their strange, shared purgatory brings them closer, and gives them a chance to prevent disaster, to learn, to heal, and maybe even to fall in love.
Notes:
For buckybarnesdeservestobehappy (hutchabelle).
This fic is a gift for buckybarnesdeservestobehappy as part of the SamBucky Events 2025 Secret Santa. I know I’m cutting it close to the wire, I hope the end result is worth it.
This also fills my B4: Pining square for the Marvel Rare Pair Bingo and my U4: Time Travel square for the Bucky Barnes Bingo which means that this is my last fill I needed for a complete blackout of my card for the BBB 😍
My undying devotion and gratitude goes to tinysugacube, who is not only a dear friend but an absolute powerhouse of a beta and I could never have finished this on time or had it come out this well without her grammatical prowess, and I would not dare to post without Marvin’s official seal of approval.
Chapter 1: i’ll stay awake ‘til i trade my mistakes (or they fade away)
Soldat— The Asset— Bucky? whoever he was, pulled the target— Captain America— Steve? from the river, making sure that the other man was breathing before deciding to do one of the things he was designed to do: disappear. He took the risk of returning to the bank where they’d held him captive and killing the scientists there, breaking into their stores to find casual clothes and filling a backpack with cash. By the time night fell, he was on a bus headed north. Despite the inherent dangers of falling asleep in public, he was nevertheless lulled by the quiet bus and found himself drifting off.
—
Sam sighed as he looked again toward where Steve lay in his hospital bed. It had been a long few days. He had been through a lot in his past, but the past few days had been some of the weirdest and most exciting of his life.
Still, it was dangerous. He had thought he’d left the danger behind when he gave up the wings, carving out a simpler life for himself—a comfortable life, where he didn’t have to worry about danger around every corner, didn’t have to worry about someone he loved getting shot out of the sky.
And now here he was, coming down from the high of another conflict, sitting beside a friend as they lay injured in a hospital bed. He couldn’t help but wish that things had played out differently, that they could have exposed Hydra and stopped Insight some other way.
Steve hadn’t woken up yet, but Sam was sure he would. He felt himself drifting off into sleep as he waited for the other man to wake. The future was uncertain, but they would be able to get through it… together.
—
Bucky woke up to a nightmare. Or had Bucky been a dream? He was Soldat—who the hell was Bucky, anyway? The shocks made him forget, again.
The Asset was given a new mission: to kill Nick Fury. His sole objective. And yet the mission, as he carried it out, felt familiar… and not just in the sense that he had been on other missions like this before. It was this one mission, specifically. He put it out of his mind—he did not need to think, he needed to kill. Nevertheless, it all felt like going through the motions; and it was achingly familiar when he ripped off the door to a car and saw how the ground underneath had been cut open with a laser. Fury had found an escape route, and the Asset needed to figure out where he had gone from here.
The man whose apartment he tracked the director to was familiar, and strong, and fast as he chased the Asset, but the Asset was faster. The shield that had been thrown at him was familiar, but he ignored that. The man was not part of his objective. The mission had been completed, and now he needed to return to his handlers.
Many of his days were like this, or at least the Asset assumed so. He could not actually remember his past, and part of him did not want to. He did not need to. But a part of him… part of him was curious. He was not allowed to be curious. Was not allowed to think. He was a tool, one constantly wiped into a clean slate. He acted strategically as he pursued the fugitives; and while there was a flicker of recognition when the target addressed him, that was wiped away too.
He still saved the man, however. Captain America. Steve. He pulled the punk out of the water and to safety before striking out on his own.
Only to wake back up in his hell.
—
Sam woke up, comfortable, in his bed. It was a day like any other; and as he yawned awake, he shook his head at the crazy dream he’d had the previous night. Meeting Captain America on his run had provided some truly crazy fodder for his nightmares.
He got out of bed and stretched before throwing on his exercise clothes and heading out for a run. No Captain America today, but Sam just assumed he was busy. As he went about his morning, everything felt familiar; but he passed it off as him having a very regular routine. When things started to get weird was later in the morning, when he got to the VA. Everything was eerily similar, and it was with a sinking feeling in his chest that he realized he was somehow back in that strange, nightmare-like dream he had found himself in the night before.
It became clearest during the group therapy session, when people began to recount stories and experiences that he knew he’d never encountered before—except he had. He acted almost on autopilot with his responses. He did his best to stay engaged, to really listen… but he was having serious Déjà vu which was, quite frankly, distracting.
And then Steve was there, and Sam told him again the story of what happened to Riley, questioned Steve about his own experiences, trying to determine whether or not the things he half-remembered were true. And Steve shared things that Sam knew he never could have known—except that he did. Once Steve left, Sam went about the rest of his day, which was exactly like what he vaguely remembered of his dream; and when he fell asleep that night, it was an uneasy sort of rest.
He was fretful when he woke up the next day. And again, the day felt familiar, but this had been a normal day, hadn’t it? In the dream at least. Part of him still felt odd, but he didn’t get truly alarmed until the next morning when he woke up again to find Steve and Natasha on his doorstep.
From there it was a whirlwind, and he felt almost on autopilot again as things went down exactly how he remembered from his dream. It was eerie; and once he found himself again sitting by Steve’s bedside, he couldn’t help but wonder what the point of it all was. How had he known all of this would happen before it did? What was the point?
He drifted off into sleep in the hospital chair, waking up once again in his own comfortable bed as he had done three days prior.
—
When Sam woke up on the morning of April 16th for the fourth time, it was with exhaustion. He had given up on thinking it to be a dream. His dreams were never this detailed. These were memories, memories of living the same four days over and over again. And the worst part was that the first two? They were boring. That’s not where the action was, not where he could make a difference. But he needed them, because if he was going to make a substantial change—find some way out of this hell loop—he needed to understand the full history, needed to form a game plan.
The fourth go-around was dedicated to reconnaissance. He needed to figure out what happened on those two normal days. So he let it all play out as it normally did, sticking to the letter of things with the exception of extracting as much information as he could with intention. On the fifth loop, he put the plan into action.
It was a terrible plan, in retrospect. He knew too much, overplayed his hand; and with no bond of trust between them, no shared experience, he was left out of the loop. He could only watch in horror as news broke of the deaths of Black Widow and Captain America, as Helicarriers took to the sky, and as he himself was taken out in broad daylight.
As he choked on his last breath, Sam could only pray that this was just a nightmare.
—
The Asset observed the celebration being carried out by the scientists who controlled him. They had succeeded. Hydra had won. And yet, Soldat was not happy.
He was not sad either. At this point in his life, Soldat did not feel much. But he did feel… confused. There was a part of him that felt this was not how it was supposed to go. Felt that things had gone wrong somehow, for all that his handlers were celebrating.
For the first time in a while, he was starting to remember. And it felt… wrong.
Chapter 2: i’ve been here before (i know the mistakes you’ll be making)
Sam decided he needed to do another loop without changing his initial behavior. He needed to pick out the pieces of where things had gone wrong. One change he did make, however, was to keep his wings more accessible before they were attacked on the bridge. It was a small change; he reasoned it would only be a tiny adjustment. Much to his shock, however, despite promises to himself that he would change nothing—things changed all on their own.
Admittedly, earlier access to his wings was a game changer. Using the advantage of the sky, he was able to trim down the number of people attacking the three of them; but he knew that he would not be able to take on the Winter Soldier, even with the help of (or rather the majority of the work being done by) Steve and Natasha. Still, he was close enough to the action to realize that, when Steve said Bucky’s name, something was different. The Winter Soldier lowered his weapons, giving them all a curious look. And when the remaining Hydra agents closed in on them, he didn’t disappear… but took out the agents himself.
“This didn’t happen last time,” Sam could not help himself saying, even as he lowered himself to the ground and stood beside Steve.
“Bucky—” Steve began, stepping toward his friend. But the Winter Soldier stepped back, and Sam caught Steve’s arm.
“Be careful,” Sam cautioned. “There’s a lot of moving pieces here. We don’t know if we can trust him.”
“But that’s Bucky, that’s—”
“That’s the Winter Soldier, man. He works for Hydra now.”
“Bucky would never—”
“Steve,” Natasha said firmly. “Sam’s right—we don’t know if we can trust him just because he took out these agents. It might be a more advanced play.”
“Can we trust you?” Steve turned back towards Bucky, but the man was gone.
—
The Asset wondered: Why had he done that?
That was not the mission. Those were not his parameters. Who the hell was Bucky? Why did the target— Captain America— His best friend, Steve Rogers, whoever the man was… He had looked at the Asset with wonder. Had stopped fighting. Why had he, the Asset, killed the other agents? What was his purpose now? Where could he go, what could he do?
Anything, he reasoned. As the minutes and hours ticked by, he started to feel more like himself—whoever that was. He had a memory of raiding the bank, of being free—was it a false memory? A fantasy? Whatever it was, he did not want to go back. He did not want to be a weapon anymore.
He went back to the bank, killed the scientists, stole some money and clothes, and bought a ticket for a bus going north. Hadn’t he done this before? How had that ended? Back in the chair. Had he ever left? Was this a figment of his imagination? Except he could never have imagined this. He did not have dreams anymore—or at least, he didn’t think he had dreams. Only nightmares, and memories.
Your work has been a gift to mankind. You shaped the century, and I need you to do it one more time. Society is at a tipping point between order and chaos. Tomorrow morning, we’re gonna give it a push. But, if you don’t do your part, I can’t do mine, and Hydra can’t give the world the freedom it deserves.[1]
Hydra didn’t give freedom. It gave pain, and suffering. He needed to stop them, didn’t he? But he was so tired. He did not remember the last time that exhaustion had not hung over him like a cloud. The things he had done… he could not undo them, even if he knew what they all were, if he knew who he was. He was the Asset, a weapon.
He left the bus terminal. He needed to go back, put an end to—and finish—what he had started.
—
Sam had no idea what to do next. Hill had found them and brought them to Fury before, but that had relied on them being captured. He had no real way to know the information he did, the fact that Fury was not dead.
“Come on, we need to get out of here, lay low.” Natasha hissed in pain.
“We need to get you some medical attention,” Steve insisted.
“Yes, but first we need to get out of here,” Sam said quietly. “We’ve caused a scene.”
Steve grimaced. “You’re not wrong.” People around them had already picked up their phones and started filming. He scooped up Natasha, who scowled in annoyance which turned into a wince of pain. Sam grabbed a few guns from the bodies of the Hydra agents before taking once more to the skies, even as Steve began to run.
Sam looped back to where his car had been totaled and retrieved their go-bag of supplies before meeting Steve at their pre-established rendezvous point. Once they were clean and had acquired a car, Sam began to drive them vaguely in the direction of where he remembered Hill and Fury’s secret hideout was, pretending as though he was simply heading in a random direction. If he was right, Hill had to be watching out for them—she would find them again.
It was actually almost funny how it went down exactly as he’d expected; but then again, this was not his first rodeo going through this time loop.
“We have to stop the launch,” Natasha was saying.
Sam knew what Fury’s reply would be. “I don’t think the Council’s accepting my calls anymore.”
As he opened the case containing the chips that would take the Helicarriers down, Sam’s brain wandered. The Winter Soldier had gone rogue. That was what was constantly and consistently running through his mind. Someone else was aware of the loop, somewhere. Was it the Soldier himself? Was it someone in Hydra who had defected, given the Asset new parameters? No, it was too random, too erratic. Things were different now. They had to be.
“SHIELD, Hydra, it all goes,” Steve said firmly. Sam’s mind snapped back to attention. Things were changing, but this bit was the same.
“He’s right.” Hill nodded, looking over to Natasha and Sam.
Sam shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I do what he does, just slower.” He needed to figure out what to do about Barnes, but for now he would let things play out.
Letting things play out was easier said than done. Barnes had apparently gone on the warpath. Oh, Natasha was successful at impersonating one of the Council, but that was one of the only things that went as they had imagined. Before she could reveal herself and get Pierce under control, before Pierce could do more than welcome the Council into the building, the Winter Soldier had already killed him. Project Insight was not going to launch. With Pierce out of the way and the Winter Soldier making no effort to stop them, it was easy for Steve and Sam to take out the Helicarriers before they even got in the air.
“Are we sure we still want to do this?” Sam asked as he watched Natasha prepare to unleash all of Hydra’s—and therefore SHIELD’s—secrets on the internet.
“Hydra, SHIELD, it’s all got to go,” Steve said stubbornly.
“Yeah, I hear you, but Pierce is gone, we’ve got time this go-around. Why don’t we take a moment, edit a few things out?” Sam reasoned.
“I don’t want there to be any coverups.” Steve shook his head. “We’ve got to take accountability.”
“There’s taking accountability, and there’s doxxing everyone who’s ever worked at SHIELD and sabotaging the safety of people who are completely innocent and/or simply living undercover,” Sam pointed out. Steve’s brow furrowed, and Natasha paused her download.
“He has a point,” Natasha said quietly. “I’m making the choice to air my own secrets, my own sins. But there are people living in peace who’ve done nothing wrong whose lives this might ruin.”
“What do you want me to do here?” Steve asked, hand in his hair. “This is an impossible choice, and there’s no time—the clock is ticking here, before someone who’s Hydra figures out what we’re doing and puts a stop to it all before we get the chance to even begin going through all of this information.”
Sam sighed. “It’s not an impossible choice. We’re capable of making this decision—it’s just a question of whether we do so before it gets made for us.” He paused. “And whether we can live with ourselves afterwards.”
Chapter 3: feeling so good right now (‘til we crash and burn somehow)
When Sam woke up and realized it was, once again, April 16th, his initial response was to scream into his pillow. Part of him hoped this was all some really weird dream—but, then again, it was far too vivid for that. He’d lost track of how many times he had been through this now. Worse than repeating the same few days over and over, they kept being a different few days. Every time he thought he was getting into the swing of things, something else would change.
He knew there was at least one other person in the loop… and he had a sneaking suspicion that he knew who it was. With a groan, he pulled on his exercise clothes and got ready to go for a run, to clear his mind if nothing else and think about what to do next—a thought process that was interrupted when the Winter Soldier stepped into his path.
“Jesus Christ!” Sam shouted, stumbling back. He was just in his running clothes—no weapons, no wings—and the world’s deadliest assassin was right in front of him.
“You can just call me Bucky,” the Soldier—Bucky said casually before frowning. “That’s my real name, I’m fairly sure.”
“Okay… Bucky.” Sam took in a few deep breaths. “Right. So, uh, what brings you to this neck of the woods?”
Bucky looked around doubtfully. “I wouldn’t exactly call this woods—”
“Alright, I got it, you’re a smartass. Why are you here?”
“I was just trying to inject a little humor into our situation.” Bucky was suddenly awkward. “I haven’t really had a proper conversation in decades.”
…and now Sam felt like he was the asshole. “Sorry. I’m a little on edge, I suppose.”
“I know, right? Repeating the same three days over and over again gets old fast.” Bucky smiled ruefully.
“I honestly feel like I’m going insane.” Sam leaned against a nearby tree. “I have no idea why this is happening. Almost thought it was just my overactive imagination giving me weird dreams, but now you’re here.”
“If I’m being honest, I don’t know if I’ve felt this sane in decades,” Bucky sighed, running his hand through his hair.
Sam gave a wry smirk. “Well, you do look good for a 98-year-old.”
“Thanks, I moisturize.” Bucky winked.
Sam snorted. “Should we maybe go somewhere a bit less open?”
“Probably.” Bucky shrugged. “Though I’m fairly confident I haven’t been followed, you can never be too safe.”
“Let’s head to my place, then,” Sam sighed. “If things go more or less the same, Steve and Natasha won’t be there for another day or so.”
—
“What the hell is happening with 109999?” B-15 asked as she stormed into Mobius’ office.
“Good morning to you too, Judge,” Mobius said before taking another sip of his coffee.
“Cut the shit.” She rolled her eyes, then leaned against his desk. “What the hell is he thinking?”
“He’s bored,” Mobius sighed. “A bored Loki is a dangerous Loki.”
“He’s bored, so she decided to destabilize an entire timeline?” B-15 raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “This loop is turning into a knot. He has to release them soon.”
Mobius shrugged helplessly. “It’s not up to me, Judge. Take it up with her.”
“You’re the one she listens to the most,” she pointed out.
“We’re going through a bit of a rough patch.” Mobius scratched his head. “Not sure how much they’re going to want to listen to me.”
“You’re going through a rough patch,” B-15 replied flatly. “Please don’t tell me that they’ve created a time loop because the two of you are having relationship issues?”
“Well—” Mobius began, but she cut him off.
“Fix things with your boyfriend, girlfriend, partner—whatever you call them, I don’t care. Just fix it!” she said firmly as she stood up. “And tell them to fix that blasted timeline!” She slammed the door on the way out of his office; he sighed, putting his head in his hands. There was a shimmer in the corner of the room, and Loki reappeared from where she had been keeping himself invisible.
“Since when are we going through a rough patch?” Loki asked, sitting on the corner of the desk.
“Well, I needed to tell her something,” Mobius hissed. Loki slid from the desk and into Mobius’s lap, drawing him into a soft kiss before pulling back.
“So you decided to throw me under the bus because you didn’t want to admit you placed a bet.” Loki rolled their eyes. “You ridiculous man.”
“It’s not like she can do anything to you,” Mobius pointed out. “You’re the only thing holding the multiverse together.”
“True enough, I suppose. But there’s not much she could do to you either.”
“I don’t have magic to get me out of every sticky situation.” Mobius shrugged. “I make do.”
“You know Sylvie or I would come to your aid if necessary. Besides, the time loop is good fun. You should go check it out yourself—make it look like you’re actually doing something. It would get B-15 to let you off the hook if you tried to actively untangle everything.”
“You want me to influence the events?” Mobius asked with a raised eyebrow. “I thought the whole point was to see what they did on their own?”
“Yes, but I’m bored, as you so eloquently put it. I’m willing to be generous in this instance.”
“So you’re handing me a victory? What happened to being an impartial judge?” Mobius narrowed his eyes. “What did Sylvie do to piss you off that badly?”
“She cheated at cards. It’s what she deserves.” Loki sniffed.
“You both cheat at cards. All the time. It’s built into the game.”
“Yes, but she cheated particularly well and took my favorite dagger. This way, you can win it back for me.”
“The things I do for love,” Mobius groaned and leaned into Loki, wrapping her securely in his arms. “Should I get ready to leave now?”
Loki smiled before leaning in for another kiss. “I think we’ve got a bit more time.”
—
“You two need to get more creative,” Mobius said disapprovingly as he walked through a Time Door and into Sam’s living room, where Sam and Bucky had been playing Mario Kart.
“Who are you?” Bucky asked, the controller dropped and gun in hand within seconds. Both he and Sam were now standing to face him. This was not the warm welcome Mobius had been hoping for, though he supposed it was to be expected.
“Whoa, whoa, hey, no need to bring out the guns.” Mobius held up his hands. “I’m here to help!”
“Here from where, exactly?” Sam asked skeptically.
“Sorry, I’ve not introduced myself. Mobius M. Mobius. I’m an agent with the Time Variance Authority.”
“Time Variance Authority. Does that mean you know how to get us out of this mess?” Sam asked.
“Well—”
Before he could go on, another Time Door had opened, and a scowling Sylvie made her way through it. “What the hell?” she hissed. “We talked about this, you can’t just barge in on them and disrupt the loop.”
“And who are you? What are either of you even doing here?” Sam asked.
“And how is it that you know about the loop?” Bucky asked, gun now trained on Sylvie.
She rolled her eyes and waved her hand, the gun disappearing in a flash of green sparkles. “Guns, really? So uncivilized. I’m Sylvie, by the way, and I wouldn’t bother turning your weapons on me—it’s not going to work.”
“Magic is real now, got it.” Sam rubbed his forehead. “This is above my pay grade.”
“You act like either of us is getting paid.” Bucky snorted. “Would either of you care to explain things any time soon, or are you just going to stand and glare at each other?”
Sylvie scowled at Mobius, completely ignoring Sam and Bucky for now. “You’re just here because you’re about to lose.”
“Listen, Loki said—”
“One moment, please.” Sylvie frowned before flicking her wrist and stopping time.
“When did they teach you that trick?” Mobius asked, jealousy clear in his tone.
“Don’t flatter them.” She rolled her eyes. “I figured it out, like I always do. In any case, if you’re going to be here, you cannot influence things towards your win condition. It’s not fair to any of us.”
Mobius crossed his arms. “You just want to win the bet.”
“I don’t care about the bet,” Sylvie said dismissively. “I’ve been observing, just as much as you have. I’m invested now.”
“Invested?” Mobius asked skeptically. “You’re the one who said it would never happen.”
“No, I said it was unlikely to happen without Rogers out of the picture. Loki’s the one who proposed the stupid bet.”
“They’re just bored.”
“They’re just enjoying playing god, is what they’re doing.” Sylvie huffed. “And if they’re a god, then so am I. In any case, like I said—I’m invested now. I see the vision, as they say.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means that I talked to my other self, and we came to an accord. We’ll go beyond the limits originally set by the bet.”
“Oh really? And what do you gain from that, exactly?”
“Satisfaction. I want them to see this through just as much as you do, now. There are a lot of benefits to this, you know, for this timeline.”
“Meaning…?”
“Meaning, if we get these two prepared enough, it could be possible to prevent Ragnarok in this universe. To defeat Thanos, prevent this universe’s Loki from dying.”
Mobius narrowed his eyes. “No, no. You just ‘ship it. I can tell.”
“I beg your pardon?” Sylvie responded, affronted.
“There are dozens of people who would have a much stronger impact on the timeline if their lives were meddled with. You just see the potential in the relationship. Ha!” Mobius laughed.
“Fine, I ‘ship it. Happy now?” She crossed her arms. “Now, I’ll restart time, but remember: no meddling. We don’t tell them how to end it, agreed?”
“Fine, agreed.” They shook hands, and Sylvie snapped her fingers to restart time.
“Right, so we’ve agreed now,” Sylvie began. “We cannot really help you, not sorry.”
“That was a really quick moment,” Sam muttered under his breath.
“If you’re not planning on helping us, why are you even here?” Bucky asked, sitting back down on the couch.
“And what does Loki have to do with it? Who is Loki, anyway?”
“That is a can of worms we don’t have time to get into right now.” Sylvie examined her nails. “There are a lot of Lokis. Some of them nice, some of them evil, some of them a bit of both. Suffice to say, the Loki we’re referencing is not the same as the one Steve Rogers will tell you about if you ask him. In any case, there’s only one way to end the loop now.”
“Which is…?” Sam asked.
“Not something I’m allowed to tell you.” Mobius looked at them apologetically.
“My advice? Enjoy the time loop while you have it. There’s a lot of opportunities for learning here. You never know what you might uncover.”
Bucky gave Sylvie an unimpressed look. “I don’t like you.”
“Many people don’t.” She flashed him a smile before tossing a DVD onto the coffee table. “Have fun!” Before Sam or Bucky could do or say anything else, she had already dragged Mobius through another Time Door.
“Well, at least I can tell B-15 that I tried,” Mobius sighed.
“You have fun with that.” Sylvie patted him on the shoulder. “I’m going to make some popcorn and use one of the observation orbs to keep track of our favorite couple.”
Notes:
Just to be clear, Loki is genderfluid in this fic, which is why I keep swapping around pronouns. If that bothers you… I really don’t care. Feel free to read something else. 🙂Also, I realized that Sam and Bucky have zero reason to know who Loki is. Everyone knows about the Chitauri invasion; but aside from those people in Germany, no one really knew who was behind everything (if those people even connected the events). So if it’s not common knowledge, there’s no reason for Sam—who has barely gotten to know Steve and Natasha—or Bucky—who has been a prisoner of Hydra—to have any idea who he is.
Chapter 4: wish you would love me (i keep it all inside)
“What on Earth was that about?” Sam asked in bafflement.
“I honestly don’t know anything anymore,” Bucky groaned. “What is that, anyway?”
“It looks like a copy of Groundhog Day.” Sam replied, picking up and examining the object Sylvie had left behind.
Bucky blinked. “Is that a movie?”
“Yes, that’s why it’s on a DVD.”
“No need to be rude. What’s it about?”
“It’s a romcom about a guy who gets caught in a time loop. She’s trying to be funny, I guess.”
“Or maybe there’s a clue in the movie?”
“Maybe? Except there is no explanation in the movie as to why the loop happens. He’s in it for probably years. Learns French, how to play the piano, all so that he can woo this girl he’s in love with. Stupid romcom shit. I don’t know, it’s been a while. An old girlfriend made me watch it.” Sam leaned forward, head in his hands, and thus missed the way that Bucky was looking at him. The way Bucky had been looking at him for the past several cycles.
They had formed a routine because, now that Bucky was no longer actively the Winter Soldier, he had gotten into a certain habit: As soon as he woke up, he killed every member of Hydra in his way, systematically working his way through SHIELD. Fury never “died” because Bucky never went after him, just silently killing every Hydra member in sight—though that did come with the unfortunate side effect that Hydra was never exposed. After going on his murder spree, he would go find Sam, who invariably would call out sick for the three days; and they would just… hang out. Sam taught Bucky how to play video games, they would watch movies, and after three days they would start it all again.
He had almost grown used to this life—grown comfortable in it, grown comfortable with Sam, for all that they had never known each other before this. But now that they knew a way to close the loop… there was an urgency that wasn’t there before. There was a way to end this. But did he want to? Reliving these days had taught him how to live again. How could he give that up?
“I already know French.” It was an astronomically weird thing to say, a weird way to take in everything Sam had said about the movie that had been mysteriously gifted to them. But what he wanted to say—I love you. I don’t want this to end—was both impossible and selfish.
Sam snorted. “That’s what you took away from all that?”
“I don’t know how to play the piano, though.”
“And your point is…?”
“Maybe that’s what she meant by opportunities. There’s more we could be doing besides just watching movies and playing video games—not that I don’t love the opportunity to relax, but there’s more we could potentially do and see. We don’t have to stay here. We could do anything, learn anything.”
“Do you really think learning to play the piano will let us close the loop?” Sam asked skeptically.
“Maybe not that, exactly.” Bucky shrugged. “But it couldn’t hurt to use the opportunity to learn more about… whatever it is that we want to learn, really. Together.” He swallowed. Part of him wanted to take Sam’s hand, but the more rational—more scared?—part of him was aware it was highly unlikely that Sam returned his feelings, and the last thing he wanted to do was alienate the one person he had who was aware of this mess they were in.
Because they were in it together—and that’s exactly why he didn’t want it to end.
—
Learning to play the piano was more fun than Sam had given it credit for. He had taken lessons as a kid but never kept up with it. It was surprising how much he liked it now, but maybe it shouldn’t have been. He had always liked music. And doing it with Bucky… that was genuinely the best part.
If he’d been asked only a month before, a week before, a day before the loop, who he would be most comfortable with being in a time loop with, he would not have picked Bucky. For one thing, he didn’t even know Bucky existed; and for another thing, Bucky was not someone he could ever have predicted or expected. But for a murderous assassin, Bucky was actually extremely kind. A genuinely wonderful friend. Part of Sam hoped for more, but he also knew it would be impossible, and not something they could have—at least, not while they were trapped together.
More than anything he had wanted in a long time, Sam wanted Bucky. But Bucky was still recovering from the trauma of his imprisonment and control by Hydra. Bucky needed a therapist that he could trust, and moreover one that would remember their multiple sessions. And then there was still the issue of the trigger words. Bucky had confessed to Sam that, if it came down to it, Hydra would be able to control him again, make him forget all that had happened. Potentially even make him forget the loops. Which was something that Sam could hardly bear: the idea that their time together could be erased, that Sam would be the only person who remembered these days.
“Maybe there’s a way to get them out of your head,” Sam offered as they drove through the night. Bucky could not get on a plane—his arm would set off every TSA alert in sight, and he was far too attached to his external weapons regardless—but they also didn’t want to spend every loop in DC, and so they had loaded up Sam’s car with gas and snacks and taken to going on road trips.
“Get what out of my head?” Bucky asked, his eyes focused on the road. There weren’t too many other cars around; but then again, it was one o’clock in the morning. The overnight drive was their best bet at making it from DC to Boston without spending half the loop stuck in traffic.
“The trigger words, the ones that Hydra uses to control you.”
“Right.” Bucky scoffed. “How would we even begin to do that?”
“Well, I was looking into Tony Stark’s—”
“No.” Bucky’s reply was sudden, harsh, and emphatic in a way that took Sam aback slightly.
“What have you got against Tony Stark?” Sam asked, turning to face Bucky to study him. His expression was tight, and his gaze was even more locked on the road. He would not meet Sam’s eyes.
“It’s not what I have against Tony Stark.” Bucky’s words were terse and clipped, though Sam could tell the agitation was not directed towards him. This was Bucky’s tone for being angry at himself. For when the trauma and anxiety would rage free, and he lost sight of the good in himself, lost the layer of banter and snark and humor he had developed to disguise the raw pain beneath.
“What is it then?” Sam asked, cautious and aware that he had found himself on sudden and precarious ground.
“I…” Bucky let out a deep breath. “The Winter Soldier assassinated Howard and Maria Stark. I assassinated Howard and Maria Stark. I killed one of my friends, and the wife I didn’t get to meet until the moment I snapped her neck. Of all the things I did while with Hydra… that is one of the hardest things I have grappled with, now that some of my memories are returning. And I can never forgive myself, and he will never forgive me once he knows. So—” Bucky shrugged uncomfortably. “I am going to avoid that conversation for as long as I possibly can.”
“That…” Sam was at a loss for words. He knew that Bucky had killed people as the Winter Soldier, knew that lives had been lost, that families had been broken. But it had all seemed so distant—something he had compartmentalized, had (perhaps willfully) forgotten. He knew that Bucky had nightmares, that he struggled to sleep at night; Sam did too. But this was a level he had failed to properly consider.
“It’s not your problem to fix, anyway,” Bucky interrupted before Sam could come up with anything else to say. “Once we’re out of the loop, I’ll get out of your hair.”
“What? No, Bucky, I don’t—I don’t want you to just disappear once this is over. You’re my—my friend. I care about you.”
“I care about you, too,” Bucky said, his tone softening. “Which is why I can’t stay. Not when they could control me again. I won’t endanger you like that.”
“I can take care of myself,” Sam replied automatically. Could he though? Could he really defend himself against a fully Hydra-controlled Winter Soldier? He did not want to ever find out. Bucky did not dignify him with an answer, which was almost an answer in itself.
Their conversation fell silent, and eventually Sam fell asleep. When he woke up, it was to a gentle touch on his shoulder. The sun was rising, and Sam realized Bucky had let him sleep for longer than he had expected.
“Hey, what happened to letting me take a turn?” Sam asked.
“You looked peaceful. I didn’t want to disturb you when I wasn’t feeling tired. You need the rest more than me. I’m a supersoldier, remember?”
“Doesn’t mean you don’t also need sleep.” Sam yawned. He was grateful for the rest, though annoyed that Bucky continued to deprioritize himself.
“Come on, I’ve found somewhere that serves breakfast, and then we’ll do some sight-seeing.”
—
“Taking your opportunities to the fullest, I wager.”
The museum was crowded, and at first Sam and Bucky didn’t realize that the speaker, a man with dark hair and green eyes, was talking to them. “Do I know you?” Bucky asked, warily.
“Ah, still avoiding Steve Rogers, I see.” The man hummed. “You’ve not asked him about me yet, though quite honestly I don’t mind. You do know me, yes.”
“Are you the mysterious Loki that Mobius and Sylvie were talking about?” Sam asked. “I looked you up. You’re not really a god, are you? There’s no such thing.”
“I am, actually. Or at least as close to a god as exists. I watch over the multiverse and can manipulate time and space.”
“So you’re the reason we’re stuck in this loop.” Sam frowned. “Why?”
“Imagine me, sitting on a golden throne at the center of time and space, forming the core of the Yggdrasil with every timeline in the multiverse held in my grasp.” Loki paused, looking at their confused expressions. “Or maybe you can’t, that’s fine. Just know that, despite it being an important job, it’s also a boring one. So I send out versions of myself into different timelines and the TVA—not Variants, you understand, but projections of my consciousness. Sometimes solid ones.” Loki pressed his hand to a nearby glass tube. Sam had already tried it himself and knew from experience that, when a hand was pressed against it, static electricity was painlessly drawn to the hand, whereas without contact it simply remained within the tube. “Sometimes otherwise.” There was an imperceptible shift, and suddenly the static had returned to its previous state as Loki was able to pass his now-intangible hand through the tube uninterrupted.[2]
Sam’s frown deepened. “So you put us in a loop because you were bored?”
“Pretty much.” Loki shrugged.
“Are you planning on letting us out anytime soon?” Bucky asked, not sure whether he wanted to know or would even like the answer.
“Are you not having fun with all the opportunities I’ve given you? I’ve been stuck in a time loop myself, you know.” Loki crossed his arms. “For literal centuries. I learned a lot in that time.”
“You’re going to keep us here for centuries?” Bucky asked in disbelief.
“No. Maybe. It depends on how long it takes you to satisfy the win condition.”
“We’re just a game to you, then, is that it?”
“Well, don’t frame it that way, it makes me sound like a monster.” Loki sniffed. “And here I came all this way to give you a gift.”
“A gift?” Sam asked with a raised eyebrow. “A gift of freeing us from this hell?”
“Two gifts, even. I’m a generous god.” Loki snapped his fingers, and everyone around them froze. All of the electricity in the room froze as well.
“What did you do?” Bucky asked, warily staring around the room.
“I stopped time for a bit. Didn’t want people to notice when I did this.” Loki snapped his fingers again, and a green mist appeared in his hand, which he blew on gently. It flowed over to Bucky, who couldn’t help the need to inhale. Bucky’s eyes flashed green briefly before turning back to their regular blue. Shaking his head, he felt slightly dizzy and stumbled—something he never did—though Sam was there to catch him.
“What the—” before Bucky could continue, Loki was speaking again.
“Желание. Ржавый. Семнадцать. Рассвет. Печь. Девять. Добросердечный. Возвращение на родину. Один. Товарный вагон.”
Bucky’s breath caught as fresh terror flooded his body. Those were the words. The words that Hydra had put in his head, the words that could control him. Only… they didn’t. He still remembered everything. He was James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes. The urge to comply, to respond with ‘я готов ответить’ was gone, vanished completely.
“What did you do? What does that mean?” Sam asked furiously.
“It means nothing now.” Loki smiled. “You’re welcome, by the way. Have fun with this.” He waved his hand at the hall full of people who were now steadily making their way towards seats and wrinkled his nose. “Electricity is more my brother’s thing.” He then vanished, with nothing to indicate that he had ever been there except the shocked and wondrous look on Bucky’s face.
“They’re gone,” Bucky said faintly. “The words… they’re gone. They don’t have control over me anymore.”
“Holy shit, that’s amazing!” Sam’s heart fluttered. No words, no Hydra control… Maybe, once they were finally able to escape the loop, not everything would need to change.
“It is, I—what do you think the other gift is?”
“I have no clue.” Bucky laughed, feeling slightly hysterical. “I never imagined that I could have this, that I could be free—so I don’t know that I could possibly predict anything else.”=
Notes:
Yes, Bucky is incredibly OP in this fic, but tbqh I’m just stating facts here; and the fact is that Hydra is fully convinced that Bucky is 110% on their side and under their control, and literally none of them are prepared to fight him when they’ll never see him coming. When I was working on this fic and the idea of the loop, it occurred to me that against a Bucky who is more or less fully in control of his faculties and already having the element of surprise… Pierce, Rumlow, and Sitwell—along with the rest of Hydra—are complete toast. I imagine the part of the loop where he gets to repeatedly go after everyone who controlled him is kind of therapeutic in its own way tbqh.
Chapter 5: i’ve made mistakes (at least they were mine to make)
Sam woke up the loop after the Boston trip to a new noise. He practically leaped out of bed at the sound because it was a new sound, which had never happened before. Briefly, he allowed himself to hope that this was truly a new day—but then realized that it couldn’t be because he was in his own bed, whereas the last time he had fallen asleep was in a hotel in Boston.
Checking his phone, he confirmed that, yep, it was 5:00 AM on Wednesday, April 16, 2014. Situation normal, all fucked up. But there was something new. There was a cat at the foot of the bed. A very fluffy cat, with white fur that looked soft to the touch. And she was soft, he discovered when he tentatively stepped closer and offered her his hand, which she sniffed lightly before nuzzling against him.
“How did you get in here, huh?” he asked, not truly expecting an answer. He read the name on her collar. “Alpine, huh? That’s a nice name for a pretty kitty.” She purred as he scratched her head.
By the time Bucky made his way to Sam’s home, fresh from killing off as much of Hydra as he could feasibly manage, Sam and Alpine were cuddled on the couch. Alpine was purring, eyes closed contentedly, while Sam flipped through the channels.
“You wanna know something else really annoying about this loop?” Sam yawned, petting Alpine, “is that we’re still mid-season for Once Upon a Time. I’ve been invested in this show, and yet I fear I’ll never know what happens next.”
“Right, tragic, where’s the cat from?” Bucky asked.
Sam looked up finally to see Bucky standing there and looking at him, mystified and a little bit fond. “Oh, this is Alpine. I think she’s the second present.” Sam shrugged, running his fingers through Alpine’s soft fur once more. The feline stood and gave a big stretch, briefly kneading on Sam’s shirt before jumping to the floor and approaching Bucky, who looked at her in amusement.
“You think?” Bucky asked with a raised brow.
“She was here when I woke up, which is always the start to the loop and before anything we do changes things.” Sam shrugged again. “And my apartment has a cat tree, two litter boxes, three cat beds, and gourmet cat food that I definitely did not have previously.”
“Right, so you have a cat now,” Bucky said, crouching down to scratch her affectionately.
“We. We have a cat. I know nothing about cats, and you had a bunch growing up.”
“That was in the ‘30s,” Bucky said dismissively, though he still picked Alpine up to cradle her large form in his arms. Maine Coon cats really were massive.
“Cats haven’t changed that much. And besides, I’m sticking by you, remember?”
“Okay, we have a cat now, I guess.” Bucky’s tone was incredibly fond, and something in Sam tightened inside, suddenly glad that Bucky was distracted by Alpine and could not see the expression Sam was trying and failing to wipe off his face in reaction to the adorable scene in front of him.
They decided to stay in for the rest of that loop, taking the time to shower Alpine with all the love and affection they were hesitant to show each other. They also, on their last night, finally got around to watching Groundhog Day. If they also cuddled on the couch, well—that was because they both wanted to cuddle the cat, and cuddling each other was just a nice side effect.
They were both thoughtful as the credits rolled, sitting in a companionable silence until ultimately Sam broke it. “The movie ends when he has the perfect day.”
“Is that the win condition, then? Having the perfect day?”
“Maybe. He makes the perfect speech, helps the people of the town, exercises his many new skills, and gets the girl—and moreover is happy to stay in the loop forever because he loves Rita.”
“So what’s your perfect day?” Bucky asks.
Sam takes a moment to think. Of all the elements of all the loops—he’s lost track of how many, but they’ve easily lasted more than a year—what had been the best? Which were his best days, the ones he would try to replicate? “We’ve had a lot of good loops,” he began slowly. “But honestly? I think this has been my favorite.” Almost unconsciously, he leaned more into Bucky. They were already sitting close together, Bucky’s flesh arm over Sam’s shoulder, Alpine laying across both of their laps. She was incredibly long when fully stretched out like this, but that was typical of Maine Coon cats.
“This has been nice.” Bucky nodded. “Hydra is, if not gone, then significantly weakened. I get to spend time with you and our cat.” He laughed. “It’s definitely one of the best loops we’ve had so far.”
“I do like being in these loops with you,” Sam admitted. “It’s—it’s been nice. To have someone.” His lips quirked up into a smile. “I think if I’d been alone in this, I might have also driven off a cliff.”
“Well, I’m glad we were able to avoid that, then. I like you just like this. And even if we really were in this loop forever… I think I could be happy.”
“Really?” Sam asked in surprise, turning his head to make eye contact, and realizing just how close their faces were to each other. Before Bucky could respond, Sam was already continuing. “I think I could be, too. I…” Sam wanted to look away but still forced himself to keep his eyes on Bucky, who looked… vulnerable. As though this conversation might break him. They were on the edge of something here. “I love you. I’ve loved you for quite some time now. And—”
Before he could continue, Bucky had already leaned in for a kiss. It was soft, sweet, and brief. “I love you, too,” Bucky grinned. “In case you didn’t realize.”
“Good to know,” Sam grinned in return before leaning in for another kiss, this one longer and more passionate. As they shifted, Alpine, disgruntled at the movements, jumped from their laps and walked over to the new and luxurious cat bed in the corner of the room.
The next morning, Sam—who had expected to wake up alone and starting another cycle, though hopefully one that also included Alpine—was surprised to find a supersoldier snoring in his bed, their new cat curled up at their feet. His heart leapt as he realized the difference of the situation, and he was wide awake by the time he had his phone in hand and noticed the date: April 19th.
“Bucky,” he said breathlessly. “Wake up.”
Bucky was instantly alert, sitting up quickly enough that the blankets shifted almost violently, much to Alpine’s displeasure. “Sam, what—”
Sam interrupted him with an enthusiastic kiss, and when he pulled away he was still grinning. “We did it, Buck. It’s April 19th.”
“Wait, so that really was the win condition for breaking the loop?” Bucky laughed.
“Correct,” said Loki.
“Did no one ever teach you not to come into other people’s bedrooms unannounced?” Sam exclaimed. “Jesus!”
“Wrong deity,” Loki told them dismissively. “By the way, if you run into Thor, tell him that Ragnarok would be a lot easier to avoid if he was nice to our sister upon our first meeting instead of immediately leaping into a fight. Oh, and also—if he gets the chance to fight Thanos, go for the head.”
“What does any of that even mean?” Sam asked, but Loki was already gone.
“Let’s leave it for now.” Bucky shook his head. “What do you want to do with our first day of freedom from the loops, now that time is moving again?”
“I can think of a few good ideas.” Sam smirked before drawing Bucky into another kiss.
[1] This is a direct quote from Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014)
[2] This is in fact a real thing at Boston’s Museum of Science. No, I don’t know what it’s called (tinysugacube says it sounds like I’m probably talking about a plasma globe, which checks out but I’m not a hundred percent certain), but regardless the MOS is one of my favorite places on the planet; so when I thought of a way to incorporate it into the fic I couldn’t help myself lol. Currently they are in the Theatre of Electricity which has a bunch of fun stuff to explore, so if you’re ever in Boston I highly recommend visiting the Museum.