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So I try to laugh about it
Cover it all up with lies
I try to laugh about it
Hiding the tears in my eyes
'Cause boys don't cry'
Boys don't cry'
It wasn't easy to catch John in a moment of weakness.
He was always the first to run when one of them was in danger and never let them see him in trouble.
Getting help, for him, was a sign of weakness. He was working on it with their therapist, but it was difficult.
Above all, Bob was literally bracing himself for the impact, because he would surely be there to pick up the pieces for him.
It wasn't even a question to ask.
He wasn't so sure about the girls, tho
///
Yelena didn't mind being alone every now and then. In therapy she had finally managed to distinguish between being okay being alone and feeling lonely, and now it no longer seemed so sad and oppressive when she had some time to herself. If she wasn't with Bucky for team reasons, she was usually with her dad, or with Bob clinging to her side and Ava nearby.
She liked their strange dynamic but when she entered the gym and found it empty, she almost breathed a sigh of relief.
She put on her headphones and turned on her phone to something upbeat and lively that could keep her company while she ran on the treadmill.
A couple of miles later, a tall, blonde head appeared in the gym with her.
John greeted her with only the tiniest nod of his chin, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled down over his thick black headphones. She knew well that when John struggled to even say hello, it simply meant she should leave him alone.
At least, those were the instructions she'd received from Bob.
She watched warily as John stood in front of the punching bag. He put down the large gym bag he'd brought with him and pulled out a clean towel and a bottle of water.
Yelena was slightly alarmed when she saw him start punching the bag without even wrapping his hands to protect himself, but he was a super soldier after all.
A measly punching bag couldn't do much to him. She decided to keep an eye on him anyway.
Ten, twenty, thirty consecutive punches to the bag without stopping. Harder and harder, faster and faster.
Yelena realized that John's knuckles were most likely on fire when John ripped the unfortunate punching bag off its hinges with one last sharp blow.
"These things don't last a minute," John said out loud, visibly frustrated.
Yelena stopped the machine she was riding in before getting out.
She watched John pick up the punching bag and slam it back down, his cheeks red and the veins in his neck pulsing.
“Hey, calm down, stud,” Yelena said, grabbing him by the arms and pulling him to a seat. “These are the best punching bags in the business, literally designed for you super soldiers and Bucky’s vibranium arm. How the hell did you manage to destroy it?”
John ran a hand through his hair, glaring at her. There was a reason Bob had told him to stay away, but Lena was starting to get seriously worried.
“What the hell do you want?” he said, annoyed. “Weren’t you running?”
“Yeah, but an idiot destroying the gym is a decent distraction,” Lena said. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing that would interest you,” John said, taking a swig from his bottle.
“You’re a member of my team and a friend of mine,” Lena said. “Of course I care!”
“You only put up with me because I'm dating Bob,” John said, wiping his face. “You can stop being nice to me.”
“Okay, maybe I'm not good at being nice,” Lena said, chuckling. “But it's better to talk to someone than to destroy the gym. And I'm the only one here, so…”
John seemed to think about it before finally sitting down on the weight bench.
“Let me guess,” Lena said. “Doomscrolling? How are we supposed to tell you those people have nothing better to do than vent their frustrations with stupid comments on social medias? You're a pretty easy target if you keep talking to them.”
“No, I swear. I'm trying to be good,” John said, holding up his hands.
“Did you have a fight with Bob?” Lena said, “No, Bob would have told me before I even came down here.”
“My parents,” John said, sighing, “They texted me this.”
He took his phone out of his pants pocket and, after a couple of taps, showed her a message.
"Jonathan Francis Walker," it said, "Please stop by when you get back to Georgia."
"It’s about the photos from the other day," John said.
Yelena nodded slightly, remembering their last encounter with the paparazzi.
It wasn't unusual for Bob to follow John on one of his morning runs, on one of those rare occasions when he got up before 10 a.m. John had managed to convince him to go running with him, and on the way back to the tower, they had stopped for bagels and coffee.
In line at the checkout, and unaware of being followed, Bob had leaned over to kiss him on the lips.
Of course, the photo was now all over social media. An unwanted coming out that had caused a panic attack and a fit of tears on Bob's part, and, apparently, a destroyed punching bag on John's part.
"Francis?" Yelena said, laughing.
“Is that the only thing you've decided to focus on?” John said. “My middle name is Francis, how funny. I didn't choose it.”
“Come on, you sulky guy,” Lena said. “What worries you the most?”
“That my parents have decided to disown me as their son?” John said. “People like us aren't very well regarded in the South.”
By “people like us,” John was referring to maybe 95% of their team. The only one who was straight was Alexei.
“Fuck them,” Yelena said. “If they don't accept their own son for who he is and for the people he loves, that's their problem.”
“It's not that simple.”
“Do you know what Alexei told me when I told him I was Ace and I spent at least 20 minutes explaining what that meant?” Lena asked. “All men stupid, you don't need them,” she added, imitating her father's voice.
Only then did she manage to get a smile out of John.
“Anything else worrying you?” Lena asked. “I think I’m a pretty good therapist.”
“I’m worried Bob’s ashamed of me,” he said. “Look, have you seen him? He’s the closest thing to a Greek God I’ve ever seen, and he settled for… me.”
Yelena was surprised when she saw John wipe his cheek. It was most likely sweat, but she wasn’t used to seeing him so vulnerable.
“I love my Bobert as if he were adopted by Alexei, too, and I’m pretty sure he only has eyes for you,” Lena said. “Look, I’m the last person you should be asking these things to, but I don’t think you’re that awful. You’ve seen the screaming fans on Twitter, right?”
“Yeah, I don't even know what they see in me,” John said sadly. “And to think I wasn't like that. I was fit. Then I let myself go after my divorce from Olivia and…”
“It's also the antidepressants, John,” Lena said. “And you're still fit, just…bigger? I don't know how else to describe you. You were pretty skinny when they elected you Captain America, though.”
“I also had a six-pack” John said.
“A little layer of fat never hurt anyone,” Lena said. “And it's all your fault, you're the one who cooks so divinely.”
“You're no help,” John said, chuckling anyway.
“Jokes aside, it's true. I've put on a few pounds too, even Ava complained about it. Now, even though it's so different from a normal life, we still have a more stable life. A place to go back to, a set routine, medicine for the little problems we all have in our heads and without which we'd be even worse off, and a super soldier who cooks us three meals a day. And believe me, I've heard Bob talk about how much he loves your ass, your hips, and your little belly that I'm sick of.”
Just then, Ava decided to venture into the gym.
She appeared on the wall to their right, one of her thinnest suits she had to stabilize her and a yoga mat under her arm.
“Hey guys,” she said, “What are you talking about?”
“Our Johnny here is a little depressed,” Lena said with a grin. “How about we give him one of our group hugs we usually do for Bob when he’s feeling a little down?”
“For Walker?” Ava asked in surprise, but when Lena looked at her sideways, she hesitantly leaned against John’s back.
The two of them hugged him tightly, Lena’s blond head just below John’s bearded chin.
“Wow, it’s like hugging a wooden board,” Ava commented. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Those photos from the other day,” John simply said.
“That’s bad,” Ava said, pulling away. “You shouldn’t blame yourself, those snakes are everywhere. I still haven’t forgiven them for that picture they took of me eating that damned donut.”
“Yeah, not your finest hour,” John said, chuckling.
“Are you feeling better now?” Lena asked instead, still clinging to him.
“Not really, but…”
“It hasn't kicked in yet, then,” Lena said, snuggling even closer to him.
The only response she got was a resigned sigh from John.
///
Bob was lying against the headboard when John returned to the bedroom.
“I was getting worried, babe,” he said, without looking up from his switch. “You’ve been down there a lot.”
John didn’t answer.
He snuggled under his arms, his head completely obscuring the small screen.
“I have a farm to take care of, John,” Bob said, but he became serious again when he saw John.
He ran a thumb over his reddened eyes, John’s cheek resting on his chest.
“Have you been crying?” Bob asked. “What happened?”
“Thoughts,” John said vaguely. “But I’m feeling a little better now.”
“My charm?” Bob asked, raising a eyebrow.
“Also that,” John said, chuckling. “I also got a pretty long group hug from the girls, but it wasn't the same. I needed my favorite Demigod.”
“Oh yeah,” Bob said, smiling. “The group hug they always do when I'm the depressed one. It's pretty suffocating.”
“Yeah,” John said, smiling.
“Hey, you're lucky,” Bob said. “You have a demigod on hand who really likes to cuddle.”
“I was hoping you would say it.”
Bob nuzzled John's hair, pulling him even closer, his Switch forgotten on the bed.
“I love you, Bobby,” John said, sighing.
“Me too, baby” Bob said. “More than anything.”
Bob tried to remember to thank the girls the next morning.