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Walking through the front door, Bucky drops his backpack on the couch, and walks past Steve to their bedroom.
"Hey, honey." Steve says as he passes then hears the door click shut.
Looking down the hallway from the couch, Steve tilts his head with a sigh then goes back to his book.
Bucky only emerges from the bedroom hours later while Steve is making dinner.
"Hey," he murmurs, leaning against the entryway to the kitchen, watching Steve cook.
Looking up with a smile, "Hey," Steve says softly. "How was work?"
"Eh." Bucky shrugs. "I like it better when you're there."
"Yeah, me too." Steve moves the food to a plate, "hungry?"
"Yeah," he smiles and gets started on setting the table.
They have dinner quietly, faint noises from the outside drifting in through the open window in the living room.
"How’ve you been?" Steve asks as they finish up their plates.
Bucky chuckles, "good, crazy weather we've been having."
Steve smiles at the surface level conversation and takes the last bite of his chicken, "Buck, c'mon."
"I've been fine."
"Kinda quiet here these last few days in particular."
Bucky takes a long drink, "Haven't had much to say."
Steve sets the fork down and looks at him over his glass of water with a raised eyebrow as he takes a drink. "Really?"
"Yep." Bucky nods and sits back in his chair, staring at him back.
Sighing, his shoulders relax, "babe, do you even want to have this conversation right now?"
"Nope."
He tilts his head, "You can just say that. You don't have to phone your way through it. We can pick it back up again later."
"There's nothing to pick up, I'll be fine." He starts to gather their dirty dishes
"I know you will, but we're definitely gonna circle back to how quiet you've been. Something is bothering you."
"I can still do my job." Bucky says as he takes the dishes to the sink and comes back for the leftovers.
Steve shakes his head, "I'm not worried about the job, I'm worried about you outside of the job." He stands up to help put the leftovers away, "you're a spy, I know you can, and I see you handle the job with ease. But as soon as you come home, that persona drops and you shut everything down. While I am so glad you are comfortable enough to do that here and with me, but you also shut me out."
"I don't." He turns to Steve with a hand resting on his hip.
Smiling softly at him, Steve leans in and whispers, "you may be a spy, but you can't lie to me." He pulls back and pats his shoulder, "but we will come back to this. We don't have to get into it right now, but we are going to talk about it." He kisses his cheek and walks back to the living room getting ready for this quiet evening.
Bucky stands in the kitchen watching the space Steve just occupied for a few moments before glancing around with a sigh and heads back to their room.
As he passes behind the couch, he reaches out and squeezes Steve's shoulder, letting his fingers trail across his back as he walks by.
"Love you." Steve says quietly.
"And I love you." He hears as the door clicks shut again.
Steve stares at his book in his lap with tense shoulders and closes his eyes.
•
"I don't know, Nat." Steve sighs into the phone. He sits down in one of the chairs they have out on their balcony and kicks his legs up. "It's everyday now." He puts it on speaker and rests the phone on his chest.
"You think it's stress?" She asks.
"He usually doesn't deal with stress this way. The quiet moods he gets in has been happening for over a year now, but they've been so spread out. A day or two here, then he's fine for another month or even longer. It's been happening more often and now? He's said more tonight than he has to me in a week."
"Want me to talk to him? 'Cause that is very uncharacteristically Barnes."
"If you can get him to talk, then be my guest. Every time I've tried, he shuts it down."
"Where is he now?"
Steve nods to inside, "he's asleep. I checked on him before I came out here."
"Is he sleeping a lot?"
"No, that's the thing. He's asleep right now 'cause it's late, but every time I go in there to check on him, he's awake. He's just laying down, looking out the window."
"Steve, do you think it's depression?"
"I've thought that too, I have no idea."
"Talk to Sam tomorrow, I'll see what I can do."
"Alright. Thank you, Nat. Have a good night."
"Try to get some rest. Goodnight, Steve." And she hangs up.
Rubbing his eyes, he takes a long deep breath to let it out slowly. He stays in the chair until his joints become stiff and he doses off a few times.
Reluctantly Steve gets up and makes his way to their bathroom to change and get ready for bed.
Crawling into bed, he's careful not to wake Bucky. Steve leans over to kiss his head and whisper, "I love you," before turning over for the night.
He's nearly asleep when he feels a metal arm wrap around his waist and cold feet tangle with his.
•
The talking has come back to just about normal now, as Natasha watches Bucky tease Sam during lunch.
It's taken him nearly a week and a half to get back into the swing of things.
"I'm glad you're joking around again, we've kinda missed you around here." Natasha says as the fry that Bucky threw bounces off Sam's head.
"Well," Bucky glances at her, "Sam's head makes a great backboard for my french fries, so I can't help it."
"Hey now. Keep ya salty fries to ya self." Sam grabs the fry and throws it back at Bucky, hitting him square in the chest, "and it was mostly Nat that missed you. I quite enjoyed the peace and silence."
"Oh, eat it." Bucky snatches an onion ring off Sam's plate to cram it in his mouth.
"Where's Steve?" Sam looks around the lunch room.
Natasha crosses her legs under her and starts picking at her food, "I think he's talking to Fury. He said he'll catch us later."
"Did he say why?" Bucky grabs his phone and clicks it on to see no messages from Steve.
"No." She shakes her head.
"Oh." Bucky's shoulders slouch and he looks behind him to look at the entry door, still shut and still no sign of Steve.
Sam takes a bite of his burger and elbows Bucky, "why were you so quiet? It's like you weren't here when you were here."
Turning back to him, he shrugs, "oh, I don't know."
"Tired?"
Natasha watches him carefully as Sam tries to get answers from him. Trying to talk to him this last week has been like pulling teeth, but she's hoping this good mood will make it easier for Sam to get in and figure out why.
"I mean, yeah and no." Bucky picks at his food before eating a couple fries.
"Not sleepy or physically tired but like drained?"
Bucky doesn't look at him, "yeah."
"Maybe you and Steve should go on vacation. Spend a few days or a week away from here."
"Where would we go? It's all too much." He finally takes a bite of his own burger.
"Too much?" Natasha asks.
"Steve will do whatever you wanna do, no matter what it is. We can talk him into it if you want." Sam suggests with a friendly smile, trying to keep it light hearted.
"I don't know you guys." Bucky gets up and grabs his food before he makes his way to the door. He tosses his food in the trash and puts the to-go basket on top.
Natasha watches the door slowly glide close as Sam sighs and says, "well, it was going good."
"Too much?" Natasha asks again.
Sam turns to look at her, "yeah, I don't know what that means."
He doesn't know where he's going, but he knows he's gotta get out of the building.
•
Since Bucky and Clint landed back stateside a few days ago, Bucky hasn't been able to sit down for a minute. Fury wants this, he wants that. Paperwork needs to be done, Shuri is trying to get him in her lab to get an upgrade on his arm.
Too many people are trying to talk to him and it's gonna make him pull out his hair.
Steve has been at work, but he's been busy too. Bucky tries to get in and see him between meetings with the UN or even during lunch when he's here, but either Steve doesn't have the time, or someone is pulling him away.
Occasionally he'll visit with Wanda, or Darcy and it helps lessen the pain in his chest, but it doesn't help the way just being with Steve does. He understands why and he doesn't blame them, but sometimes he still wants to just be able to catch his breath.
The pressure in his chest has slowly been building since before him and Clint left and everything since has started to slide downhill.
He couldn't tell you how many people talked at him today. They might have thought they were speaking to him, but he doesn't remember a single thing. They were practically talking at a wall.
The voices still linger heavily in his head as he drives home. Thanking whoever is listening that Steve got home from his latest conference in D.C. a couple of hours ago. Seeing him will help lessen the pain in his chest. He just has to make it home first.
Pulling into the dark parking garage with the intoxicating bright lights makes his throat go dry.
"You're almost there." He says in the empty truck.
His chest becomes too tight and the lights are too blinding even during the day for Bucky to see properly.
Slamming the truck in park, he grips the steering wheel until the knuckles in his flesh hand turn white and eyes screwed shut.
"What are you doing, James?" He grits through clamped shut teeth. "Just breathe."
He loosens the grip he has on the steering wheel and relaxes his face. He takes a couple of deep breaths and drops his hands to his lap.
"Still hurts." He whispers as he rubs a hand across his chest, "still hurts."
Reaching for the door handle, Bucky slides out of the truck and grabs his stuff to go inside.
When the elevator doors open, his panic skyrockets and he takes a step back. The bright, neon gas station lights in the elevator make him dizzy and lose his concentration. Backing up, he tries the stairs.
Not the best option, but it's better than the elevator. Lights aren't as bright, there's not a humming noise lost somewhere in the background, but it's still too small for comfort.
He makes it up six flights of stairs, pushing through before he has to stop. "It's just been a long couple of days, you're fine. Just get home to Steve, you'll be fine." He says quietly, yet the echo can still be heard throughout the stairwell.
Looking up he sighs, "just tweleve more stories to go."
By floor eleven he's climbing with his eyes closed and a tight grip on the railing.
Floor fourteen has him glued to the bottom steps, unable to move. His breathing has picked up and his forehead is covered in a cold sweat.
"I can't, I can't." He pants. "Oh fuck."
Digging into his pocket, he cracks open an eye and pulls out his phone.
It picks up after the second ring, "Hey, Buck, where are you?"
"Steve," he huffs, "I need help."
"Where are you?" Steve's tone changes.
"I can't," he sucks in a deep breath, "I can't-"
"Tell me where you are, I'm on the way. It's okay."
"I'm in the stairwell."
"What?" Bucky hears a door slam shut on Steve's end.
"Floor fourteen, please, Steve, help me."
"I'm coming, I'm coming."
He shoves his phone back in his pocket, above him and he hears a door hit the wall as it swings open, causing the echo to rattle his bones.
"Steve?" Bucky hollers out.
"I'm coming, Buck, don't worry."
He holds his head in his hands with his back pressed up against the wall as he tries to take deep breaths.
"Hey," Steve jumps down the last set of steps, "Hey, I'm right here." He reaches out to Bucky.
"I can't move." He feels out for Steve, pulling him in close.
"It's okay. I'm here now." He wraps his arms around Bucky. "Just breathe with me." He says, trying to get his breathing back to a normal pace. "Look at me."
Shaking his head no, Bucky tries to dig his face into Steve's neck.
"Okay, let's just breathe, then. In." He takes a deep breath that Bucky tries to copy. "And out." Steve runs his fingers through his hair.
A couple of passes and Bucky's breathing is semi back to normal. The occasional sharp breath, but calmer now.
"Good, good. Can you look at me?" Steve asks, head still pressed to the side of Bucky's.
Bucky pulls back and his eyes slowly make their way up to Steve's face.
Smiling, Steve brushes his hair out of his face again, "there he is, here's my boy." He whispers. "There are those beautiful eyes that I love."
A small smile crosses Bucky's face then it's gone again. "I couldn't move."
"It's okay." Steve nods. "I got you now."
"I thought this would be better than the elevator." He whispers. "More space."
"Can you move now? Can we stand up?"
"Stand?" Bucky glances down to see the floor so close. When did he slide down the wall?
"C'mon, baby. I got you. Let's go home." Steve helps him up. He pulls one of Bucky's arms over his shoulders and wraps an arm around his waist. "When we get inside, we can take those clothes off you, and put you in something comfy, and we can go lay down. How does that sound?"
"Good." He huffs, keeping his eyes down at their steps.
"Shoes." Bucky comments.
Steve glances down, "you have your shoes, do you not want them on?"
"Your shoes."
"Huh?" Steve looks over to his own bare feet. He notices he's still in his house shorts and one of Bucky's old tank tops. "Oh, it looks like I forgot them. That's alright."
Pushing open the door to their floor, they walk out into the hall and make their way to their apartment. Bucky reaches out to touch the door as Steve opens it and it glides open.
"Let's go to the room." Steve carries him to the back and helps him sit on the bed. He crouches in front of Bucky and smiles up at him, "how are we doing?"
"Better. I can breathe now."
"Good." Steve looks down and starts unlacing Bucky's boots. "Do you want a bath, or just to lie down, right now?"
"Lie down."
"You got it." He pulls them off and tosses them to the side. "Whatever you want."
Standing up, he reaches for the hem of Bucky's shirt and carefully pulls it over his head. "Do you want a sleep shirt?"
"No." He shakes his head.
"Alrighty." He says softly. "Help me and lay down?" Steve reaches for his belt.
Bucky scoots back to his side of the bed and lays down. He undoes his belt and Steve helps him pull his pants down and off each leg.
"Shorts, or just your boxers?" Steve asks.
"This is fine." Bucky mumbles, eyes closing already.
Steve covers him up to his elbows and Bucky starts snoring lightly. Staring at him for a few minutes, Steve hugs his arms around himself.
He leaves the room and stands in the living room, trying not to cry, but a few tears escape.
Taking a deep breath he reaches to his back pocket for his phone and dials Natasha's number.
When she answers, Steve opens the front door, careful not to wake Bucky and starts pacing in the hallway.
"We're not gonna be at work for the next couple of days. Tell Tony I'm sorry that I have to miss our appointment, but this isn't gonna be up for debate, I'll email Fury later."
"What happened?"
A worried sigh escapes Steve's throat, "Buck just had a panic attack in the goddamn stairwell here at the apartment."
"He what?" Her voice comes loud from the phone.
"Natasha." He paces, "I don't know what's wrong, but we're not coming back until we figure it out."
"Talk to Sam, I'll smooth it over with everyone here." She asks, "where's James now?"
"He's asleep." Steve motions inside, "he was practically asleep before I got all his clothes off."
"He's exhausted." Natasha says. "The panic attack sent his adrenaline into overdrive. Let him sleep it off. He'll be out for a while."
"Natasha, I'm so nervous."
"I know you are, Steve."
"Has he been having panic attacks this entire time and was telling no one?" He runs a hand through his hair. "Why did he feel like he couldn't tell me?"
"Did he say anything else?" She asks, "why was he in the stairwell?"
Shrugging Steve says, "he said it was bigger than the elevator."
"I don't remember Barnes being claustrophobic?"
"Neither do I."
She asks, "is there anything I can do to help right now?"
"I guess not." Steve stops in front of their door. "Sorry for bothering you, you were just my first instinct to call."
"You could never bother me. I'm glad you called. You know I care about James just as much as I care about you."
"Yeah." He murmurs.
"Try to relax, he doesn't need you being frazzled. Go be with him and both of you get some rest. Call me if anything else happens."
"I'll do my best. Thank you, Natasha."
Steve opens the door to go back inside and slides his phone across the kitchen counter and stands for a moment before heading to the bedroom.
Creaking the door open, he pauses to see Bucky in the same position where he left him, still snoring lightly.
He walks over and crawls in bed, laying behind Bucky. He wraps an arm around his waist and snuggles in close, forehead pressed to the center of Bucky's shoulder blades.
Bucky stirs awake the next morning with Steve still wrapped around him. He lays there for a few moments, enjoying the stillness. He can tell it's morning by the smell of the air outside from the window that he knows Steve left open.
He shifts and Steve's eyes open, "hey."
"Hey." He tilts his head to whisper. "How much sleep did you get?"
"Here or there, probably about an hour."
"What time is it? How long was I out?"
He stretches out his legs, "maybe half past four, I'm not sure. You slept for about ten hours, maybe a little less." Then Steve tangles his feet with Bucky's again.
"That's a lot for us."
He nods, "you're right. That is a lot for us." Steve rubs his stomach, "you were kinda wiped out. How are you feeling now?"
It takes Bucky a minute to answer, "still tired."
"That's okay." Steve nods behind him.
He grabs the hand that's around his waist and squeezes it, "I'm sorry."
Shaking his head softly, Steve squeezes him, "You have nothing to apologize about."
"I don't know what happened." He whispers, "I thought I could make it."
"I would have come down and came up with you."
"I thought I could make it." He repeats softer.
"Honey," Steve starts quietly, "how many times have you been through something like that?"
Bucky turns over to face him, "Don't get mad at me." He places a hand at the center of Steve's chest.
"I could never get mad at you for something you can't help, so please don't think that." He reaches up to brush Bucky's hair back. "I want to make sure you're okay."
Bucky's eyes travel from Steve's to his chest and he fiddles with his tank top. "This is the first time it's been that bad. The others weren't like this."
"I thought I would have been fine, but these last couple of days, and the last job I was on with Clint was too overwhelming." Bucky closes his eyes.
"What do you mean, overwhelming?"
"It was too much. It was all too much."
Steve cups his cheek, and rubs a thumb across his temple, "Can you explain it a bit more? I'm not quite understanding."
He sighs, "the job was too loud. The city never stopped making noise, we never stopped moving. It was too fast. Too many people." Bucky reaches up to cover Steve's hand and moves into it to kiss his palm. "Then when we came back it was still too loud, too busy, too close. I couldn't breathe."
"Do you wanna get away for a while? Away from the city?"
"We can't leave."
"Why?" Steve asks.
"What about work?"
"Don't worry about work." Steve pulls him closer, "I already told them that we won't be back for a while."
"You did?"
Nodding, "Yes, I talked to Nat and I emailed Fury, I even texted Tony saying that I can't make his appointment Wednesday." Steve kisses his head, "all we're gonna do is focus on you and whatever you wanna do. So, if you wanna get away for a while, I never told them a return date, so we can be gone for as long as you want."
"Really?" Bucky whispers.
Steve smiles and plays with his hair, "yeah. We can go up north to see some big trees, or even out west to check out some mountains in a cabin. Maybe even a little house on a beach. How's that sound?"
"Amazing." Bucky sniffles.
"Hey, it's alright." Steve says, "I just want you to know that I love you more than my entire life, so I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you feel good and happy again."
Bucky nods into Steve's chest and Steve continues to hold him until he falls asleep again.
•
Sitting in a rocking chair Steve watches Bucky feed a brown barn cat he named Spud, their leftover scraps of chicken at the far end of the porch. A cool breeze comes through over the fields as the sun begins to set and Steve smiles at Bucky's smile. It's been too long since he's seen it that bright.
Wiping off his fingers, Bucky scratches the cat on its head and stands up, making his way over to Steve.
"C'mere." Steve reaches out for him.
Bucky takes his hand as he sits in Steve's lap, legs kicked over the armrest.
"It's been such a good day."
"I'm glad. We haven't done much."
"That's the good part about it." Bucky smiles and looks out across the field, "we slept in and laid in bed talking, then we made breakfast together. I fed the chickens afterwards and we got to go ride the horses, which I'm getting better at." He nudges Steve.
"Yes, you are, my cowboy." Steve chuckles. "I ought to get you a cowboy hat."
"And I'd look damn good in it too." He laughs. "Can we stay one more week?" Bucky asks, arms come up to rest around Steve's neck.
Smiling at him he asks, "so you've really enjoyed it out here?"
"Too much. I can finally breathe." He kisses Steve. "Spud likes it too."
"I'm sure he does," Steve chuckles. "He looks like he's getting a little fat with all that you've been feeding him."
Bucky leans his head against Steve's and looks over at Spud licking his paws, "I can't help it, he's too cute."
"He is cute."
"So?" Bucky looks back at him, "Can we?"
Unable to hide his smile, Steve nods, "I'm sure we can. I'll email the guy and see if we can extend our stay."
"Oh, good." Bucky kisses him again. "My best guy."
Resting his head against Steve's, they enjoy the cool breeze and the only noise for miles are the chickens in the yard and the cows in the next pasture.
"What if," Steve finally says, "we get our own little place away from the city. Somewhere with land."
Bucky chuckles and says, "Like a farm? We'll get some chickens and goats while we're at it."
"If you want, you loved the goats in Wakanda."
"You're not joking?" He pulls back.
"No," he shakes his head, "I've thought about it before, how I'd like that life, especially after I saw how Clint had his life with Laura, and still had the job. So if we can have both, then why not?"
"Really?"
"Yeah. Especially now if you think it'll help you, then absolutely."
"You'd move out of New York?"
"Hon, I became a fugitive for you not that many years ago. I'd definitely move states to live out the rest of our days with you."
"Oh, keep sweet talkin' me like that and you'll get lucky tonight." Bucky grins and presses his lips to Steve's.
"Whatever you want, cowboy. I'm just along for the ride."