Sam POV

Sam doesn't have anything to say, he doesn't try to stop Bucky as he storms away from him, he just walks back into your room, slumping back down on your desk chair. He's not sure how long he sits there, keeping himself from playing it all back, trying not to think about the moment he'd turned his back on you. But he does think about it, and his heart just keeps breaking, over and over:

After the incident with Wanda:

"Pick and choose your battles, Wilson."

"And if this is the battle I want to choose?" Sam retorts.

"It's not."

"Look at what just happened," Sam says, gesturing around the conference room where he and the rest of the team argued for hours about your place on the team. "I don't want her here. I'm not going to subject her to this. We'll give it a few more months and try again, but she's not safe here."

"She's not safe anywhere but here."

"Why?" Sam counters, eyeing Fury in suspicion. "What aren't you telling me?"

"I found this on the bottom of your car," Nick says, holding up a small tracking device.

Sam sucks in a breath, "Shit."

"My guess is someone's trying to figure out where the two of you live. They may or may not already know that." Sam remains silent, wordlessly weighing each option: continuing with the move or staying put. "The target on her back is only going to get bigger after today. An untrained rookie just took down the Scarlet Witch. That's going to spread like wildfire."

"I'm not going to force her to live in a place that she's clearly not welcome," Sam hisses, gesturing to the empty conference room.

"You don't have to, but SHIELD will."

"I don't give a rat's ass about what SHIELD wants. And let me remind you about that little mole problem SHIELD has, I don't trust half the people on this Compound right now. I can't keep an eye on her if we're here."

"Do you trust your own team?"

"After today's shit show? That's a very reluctant yes."

"They're not happy about this. SHIELD's adamant that you're moving too slowly. So concede on this one: move here, let her put some roots down, let them get attached to her. More eyes means more protection, more people watching that target on her back. More leverage to get her away from SHIELD."

"More people means more danger. You said it yourself, she's calling too much attention to herself."

"It was always going to happen. The question is: are you going to fight it or let it be on your own terms? Because I can tell you one thing, you let SHIELD make that decision for you and it's not going to be pretty."

Sam shakes his head. "Fine."

Or after your kidnapping:

"A kidnapping, Wilson?" Nick hisses from the other end of the line.

"From one of your SHIELD agents!" Sam accuses, speaking loudly enough to attract attention from the agents walking in the Compound. He sighs, dramatically lowering his voice, "I told you about that this mole issue was going to bite us in the ass. Rumlow never would've known about her if we stayed away."

"That's what you assume," Nick refutes.

"That's what I know."

Nick remains quiet for a moment before asking, "Is she alright?"

"Bruising to her face and jaw, but nothing's broken."

"And mentally?"

"I caught some of what he said. It wasn't good. My guess is he was trying to win her over by making SHIELD look bad, which isn't that hard to do nowadays."

"And did he?"

"No," Sam dejectedly whispers. "I talked to her, we're good."

"Good."

"I'm benching her," Sam quietly adds into the phone.

"How long?"

"As long as she needs."

Or after you saw those alternate timelines:

"Alternate timelines? Really?" Sam loudly scolds.

"It had to happen," Strange cryptically offers, looking unaffected by Sam's vitriol and Bucky's clenched fist.

"And if I just happen to kick your ass?" Bucky grimaces.

"Everyone stand down," Nick says as he strides into the room. Then he turns to Strange with a scowl, "Alternate timelines? Really?"

"As I've said, it had to happen this way."

"And if I just happen to kick your ass?" Nick threatens, echoing Bucky's sentiment from just moments ago.

"I think you're the one that needs to talk to her," Sam mutters to Fury.

He nods, walking the corridor to your room. He lightly taps the door, entering only moments later. After a few minutes he walks out of your room, as he closes the door behind him, he sees Sam standing in the hall waiting for him. "Let me guess, you want to keep her suspended from field work."

"Yes."

Nick sighs, shaking his head, "You're treading thin ice, Wilson."

"You put it however you want to put it, mentally unstable asset, volatile, whatever, but I'm not going to throw her back out there like that. She needs time. Right now, she needs to be a person, not an Avenger, and certainly not a SHIELD asset."

"Okay, I'll let them know."

And then the straw that broke the camel's back, when you were shot:

"I know. I know they're pissed," Sam says watching you through your hospital window, Nick Fury standing right next to him. You were out of the woods now and were content knowing that everything was out in the open between the three of you. As Sam watched you, you were sleeping soundly in your hospital bed, Bucky's head resting on your legs as he quietly snored.

"Not this time, it's more than that."

Sam scoffs, rolling his eyes. "So what? We're both suspended?"

"No," Fury definitively shakes his head.

"Then what? What more do they want?"

"They want to separate you. They want to recall and relocate her."

"What?" Sam angrily demands. "No way, not a chance in hell."

"I'm telling you as a courtesy. As soon as she's out of here, they're launching a full scale investigation and evaluation. But in my opinion, it looks like they've made up their mind."

"An investigation? Into what exactly?"

"They don't think you're fit to handle an asset this valuable."

"She's not an asset. She's a person for God's sake!"

"Do what you have to, Wilson. Prove them wrong. Make a case for yourself."

"Make a case when they've completely stacked the deck against us?"

"There's nothing that you nor I can say right now that's going to stop this from happening. Use this time wisely, you've got one shot to make a case for her and yourself. You better make it a hell of a case."

Sam nods once, his jaw tightly clenched.

"Nick," Sam interrupts, just as Nick is about to enter your room to wake you. "Don't say anything to her."

"You can't protect her from this," he cautions.

"I can. And I will."

"Your call, Wilson."

"Just let her be happy for now," he says, watching you and Bucky sleeping peacefully.

And then the grueling evaluation:

The first week was the easiest. Also the most tedious. It was easy to pretend like he was just busy, you nodded and thanked him. He offered a small hesitant smile, feeling so guilty for lying to you. But if he could protect you from this mess, he would. He started at the source, going straight to SHIELD and tried talking them out of this 'investigation'. He put on his best diplomatic smile and talked to all the stupid men on the council telling them that there was no need for this. That strategy failed catastrophically.

The second week, he rushed around the Compound to put together an infallible case. All your successes, all your triumphs. All the gleaming reports from the team. He didn't give you or Bucky a chance to catch him, it was too much pressure trying to pretend like everything was okay on top of pulling this all together.

The third week, Nick told him that it wasn't looking good. They'd shut him out of the investigations entirely, saying that he was too close to this one. Sam turned his phone off and focused on convincing a room full of men that had never even met you that you two were a good match, that the two of you had a strong bond that made you and the team all the better for it.

And the fourth and fifth week were the closest to hell that Sam could imagine.

-

"The incident with Ms. Maximoff was entirely preventable if only you hadn't insisted on keeping her away from the Avengers Compound."

"It was an unfortunate accident in which Wanda and Steve have both already taken full responsibility for."

"So the asset can only control herself in your presence?" the man accused.

"No-"

"If her performance is contingent upon one person being present than perhaps you're too close to act as a professional."

"They reconciled only days later," Sam tries to remind them.

"But only after both she and Ms. Maximoff were both injured, correct? Only after she was found in a intoxicated in a bar with yet another member of the Avengers?"

"What she does on her off time is none of your business," Sam vehemently refutes, trying his best to maintain his composure.

"It's all of our business."

-

"You left her unsupervised on the Avengers Compound when you claimed to know of the mole problem."

"She needed room to breath. She's an adult- I can't treat her like a prisoner. You do remember that she's not your prisoner, don't you?"

The man continued speaking over him, "And because of your egregious error in judgement, she was kidnapped. A SHIELD asset kidnapped right under your nose."

"By one of your SHIELD agents!"

"She was taken while under your supervision. It's as simple as that."

-

"You're only going to get her killed, Mr. Wilson. Her relationship to you, the Avengers, this very city, you're putting her life in her danger. It's in her best interest, for her safety. Do you understand?"

Sam swallows the knot in his throat. After two weeks of listening to them rake him over the coals, accosting him for every single mistake he'd made in the last year, all the times he'd put you in danger, he couldn't help but think they were right. You were in danger because of him- because of the Avengers. This was for the best. It was to keep you alive. He nods once, responding numbly, "I understand."

-

He came back to the Compound that night and felt broken. He failed- and you were going to pay the price because of it.

"Sam?" you asked, finally cornering him in the hallway when he wasn't paying attention. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," he rasped, not quite meeting your eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing- just busy."

"Is it me and James? Is it weird for you?"

He smiled softly, softly squeezing your shoulder while still avoiding your eye line. "I just want you happy- safe. That's what matters to me. You should- just...hold onto happiness wherever you can get it because you never know when it's going to be over."

Your head twists slightly, and he knows you probably don't understand where he's coming from. And you won't- not until you're gone. His jaw clenches tightly as he tries to focus on what you're saying to him. He swallows the knot in his throat to keep a straight face as you place your hand on his shoulder, "Well, I miss you. It's not the same without you. I can't really be happy without you, you know."

His breath hitched as his heart clenched. He promptly turned on his heels and walked away. He'd let you have these last few weeks, let you enjoy this happiness without darkness looming over the horizon. He could give you that. All he could do was wait for that dreaded moment when you were cleared for travel.

And the sixth week, as much as he used to praise your resilience, he cursed it when he found out you were cleared for travel. It would be a few days before that information made it's way to SHIELD, and he stayed away, knowing exactly how this was going to play out. That entire week he sat in his room, stewing in guilt at not being able to protect you anymore.

-

"Sam!" Steve urgently calls from your doorway, breaking Sam out of his stupor. "We've been looking for you everywhere!"

He sighs deeply in resignation. "Go away, Steve."

"Sam, there's a problem," Steve says, his voice frantic.

"Then get someone else to help," he mutters absently, not even looking at the super soldier.

"Sam, look at your phone. It's bad."

Sam huffs, turning on his phone over to look at the dozens of messages from Steve. His blood goes cold as he sees the urgent messages.

"Sam, it's-" Sam barely hears your name leave Steve's lips as he shoots up of your chair and out of your room. "Get Bucky," Sam calls over his shoulder, already running to the jet.