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James Anthony Rogers was a lot of things. Hero. Sidekick. Son. Brother.
He was also just tired. Life, even at seventeen, felt like it had been going on too long. He knew, deep down, that feeling like this wasn't good, wasn't normal. He didn't care though. He couldn't force himself to care.
It wasn't on purpose. Though James doubted these things ever were. It started with absently picking at scabs. Everyone did it, it was fine. Sure some bled and stuff but it happens.
James was careful though. He had to keep it subtle. No one should have to be burdened by it. It was a bad habit anyway.
After missions, especially particularly tough ones, James fell into a habit. He scratched and picked and rubbed his wounds raw, even to the point of bleeding. He'd do it over and over and over again. He had to be careful, and he knew Captain America, Eli, suspected something.
It hurt, but James craved it.
The blond knew it was wrong, and guilt raked his body every time he did it. However, he couldn't stop. It made everything better, even for just a split second.
It was after the worst mission of James's life that he kept doing it well after he bled. It was rough, awful, and finding out the disinterest beyond giving James a name that Steve had in him was because James was a clone and not his son? It hurt, it hurt James to his very core and he just wanted to dig it out.
So he tried.
-
James was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to wake up in a hospital bed. He was pretty sure he was in Eli's guest bedroom just a second ago. Why was he here? Why-
He flinched as he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye, heart pounding. Was it a threat? He didn't feel the familiar weight of his shield generator on his wrist. He was so-
"Hey, its just me," Eli's voice said softly. It was a surprisingly gentle tone. Well, surprising if you don't know Eli outside of his heroism.
"Why am I here?" James blinked, rubbing his eyes. "What…"
"You were passed out in a pool of your own blood," Eli explained. "You've been put for about a day."
"Oh…" James said, absentmindedly going to scratch at his arms, only to have Eli take his hands gently, and James then noticed the fact his nails were now cut and dulled.
"Hey don't do that," Eli said.
"Sorry," James mumbled. The young blond didn't even know what he was apologizing for. Sorry for hurting Eli? Sorry for hurting himself? James honestly wasn't sure. "Sorry."
"No need to apologize. I should be the one apologizing for not noticing sooner," Eli said firmly. "How are you feeling?"
James shrugged. How did one even begin to explain the feeling of deep seeded numbness, hurt, and guilt?
Eli sighed and James looked away. He wished he could answer, could even really speak. Speaking felt like too much effort, however, like it was pointless. Especially right now.
Eli broke the silence after several minutes. "I'm going to call for a doctor. Stay right here okay?"
James just humbly nodded. What else could he do? Unhook himself from the machines? Even he wasn't that suici-
Oh.
James pushed himself back into the two pillows (Eli must have requested James get two pillows, and the blond felt a small spark of small happiness that the current Captain America knew James so well and cared about him so much) and sighed.
They'll probably keep him here until he physically recovers, then throw him into some room in the psych ward. He could probably get out, but he'd be placed right back in so there'd be no point.
Then again if he escaped, he could make his second attempt more-
Eli came back then, and a doctor and a nurse quickly looked him over. The older male stayed by James's side the whole time. There was talking, not that James really registered it or paid attention. Then, the doctors left after addressing him.
James still didn't know what they said.
He always wasn't going to bother to ask. There was no point when he was going to make sure there wouldn't be, anyway.
"So," Eli said, breaking through the silence in the way only he could. "They're releasing you later today, then we'll go home, we'll find you a therapist, and you're going to be benched for a while."
James blinked blankly at him.
"Your injuries are extensive, but no longer life threatening. As for your mental health… you do need help, James, and a lot of it. I want to make sure I can get you the help you need. You're like a son to me, and I don't want you to have to suffer this. You're not alone, James, and I'm sorry it took me this long to realize you needed me."
-
Steve never visited.
Natasha, his mom, visited. His sister, Anastasia, visited. The Champions all visited, Torunn even visited along with Francis.
James tried not to let it bother him. It wasn't like it'd be anything new. He FaceTimed Azari a few times, spent time with Eli and his family, even visited Sam, Bucky, and their daughter Ansira.
James hadn't found the right fit for a therapist. Honestly talking to someone about everything just made his skin crawl. He knows he probably should figure out a way to deal with all of this that isn't self destructive, but it also all seemed like a waste of time.
At least he wasn't alone anymore.
If Eli and his wife weren't home, James would get a 'surprise' visit from a friend or his sister and/or mother. He wasn't dumb, he knew they were doing it to keep him from trying again.
If no one was available, everyone, mostly Azari and Eli, texted him constantly. James would bitch and moan about it, but he was pretty sure everyone knew he was grateful. At least, he hoped they did.
Steve still never visited.
James pushed the hurt of that deep down in his now-heavily-scarred gut.
-
The first panic attack that he had happened on a rare trip out to New York City proper.
Eli and his family lived outside city limits, owned five acres of land, and were pretty isolated from other people. Which was good, considering Eli was Captain America and he had a three year old and his, recently announced that she was pregnant, wife to worry about.
James didn't know what specifically triggered it. The sounds, the crowd, the action, the movement. Maybe all of it.
"Hey I'm here, it's okay, focus on me, James," Eli said gently after pulling James into an alleyway. "It's okay."
"R-right…" James mumbled. "Sorry I-I…"
"Nothing to apologize for," Eli promised. "Are you okay?"
"J-just need…" James swallowed, clenching his fist and trembling. "Can we go home?"
"Of course," Eli murmured. "Whatever you need."
-
PTSD and depression.
That was James's official diagnosis two months later. He still hated a one on one therapist, but after his diagnosis he was set up with a group of similarly aged people with PTSD.
It helped a lot.
He felt more at ease in the group, less cornered. He opened up a lot to them and even got their numbers. Two months in he was added to their group chat.
It was also when he decided to retire from being Patriot officially.
James still kept his shield generation watch. He felt anxious and twitchy without it, but he gave up his uniform. He had thought Eli would be upset, dreaded it even, but the older male just looked relieved.
They were working on getting James a service dog. It was something he was reluctant about at first, but he also recognized he needed the security of one. Plus, he wouldn't have to worry about losing a real dog, unlike his stuffed one.
He still scratched on occasion, but he was able to, mostly, stop himself now.
Maybe a dog could help with that as well. Maybe.
James still hung out with the long defunct Next Avengers, Torunn, Azari, his sister, and Francis. Henry not as much, but the two ended on a pretty sour note, so it didn't surprise him.
God, it felt like forever ago that he had been a starry eyed thirteen year old.
-
James slowly opened up more.
He still doesn't talk a whole lot, but he never saw that as a problem. He says what he needs to, then closes his mouth.
He goes on dates. He and Azari dated for about three months before calling it quits. They worked better as friends and both of them acknowledge that.
He dated another girl for a year and a half, and got progressively lower and lower until he woke up suddenly in the hospital for the second time in his life.
He didn't date again until a year later, when he and Maria dated for a month before breaking up. They were destined to fail though, being they were only together to not feel lonely.
Eli was by his side the whole time. At some point, James was pretty sure he just started calling him dad. It fit him better than Steve, who hadn't even contacted him in years.
James met Aria, they started dating. They were going strong. Her fire and life was something James loved about her. It also helps that she was genuinely a good person, and didn't feel the need to 'fix' him. She had her own shit and trauma to deal with too and she got it.
James was by her side when they had to bury one of her best friends. Aria was by his side when they had to bury his mother.
The scratching doesn't stop, but he has Rover now to whine and lick at him and get his attention away from it. Rover is also a great barrier between James and the rest of the world when he needs it, and a good way to ground him.
James Anthony Bradley was a lot of things. Friend. Brother. Partner. Son.
Most of all, however, the twenty three year old finally felt like maybe he was going to be okay.