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Bucky never would admit it to anyone other than his therapist but some days he just didn't feel like moving. Those days, he would rather spend the entire morning in bed, crying into Tony Stark's Ultra Soft Quality Brand™ pillows with his hands over his ears than acknowledge that there was a world of people out there that he should be participating in life with. But Bucky wasn't allowed such breaks in his existence as to have a day off- even if it was due completely to depression as well as PTSD instead of the laziness many assumed caused him to want to never leave his room- so he rarely got the chance to cave in to his desires.
His therapist said it was best that he didn't give himself this opportunity, that he should force himself as often as possible to be out and about in the world, or even just the Stark Tower if that was all he could handle that day. Bucky, however, considered this opinion ghastly when he actually needed to take heed of the instructions. Of course, he didn't really have a choice on following given the overwhelming work load that Fury had dropped on him as soon as the once director of shield had recieved an okay from the soldier's therapist.
"It'll be good for you." He, Bucky's therapist, had said. The older person wasn't so sure.
-
For the most part, Bucky's friends agreed that the best thing for him right now was to spend as much time getting accustomed to the new age as well as doing good deeds that might help him overcome his guilt towards having been used as a weapon of HYDRA. Sam Wilson was the one acception to this.
After the incident with the "ripping the wheel out of your car" and "only returning once you met my ex boyfriend", Bucky wasn't sure that Sam would have wanted to start any sort of friendship, so he kept his distance as best he could as a way to respect that notion. Week after week, he did his best to avoid the younger soldier in hopes that it might keep Sam from hating him any more than he already did.
It wasn't a subtle thing, but Bucky couldn't be blamed about that because he was never capable of being subtle about anything. While other people's emotions were often hard to decipher for Bucky ( Steve had learned that the easiest way to show his friend how he felt was to just say outright or else Barnes just wouldn't be able to understand. Most conversations now featured verbal confirmation of the way Steve was feeling such as "I'm not upset with you" and "I was being sarcastic, I love you more than Sonic the Hedgehog."), he was incapable of not being completely obvious about his intentions. There was no need to pretend he was doing something different than he actually was, it wasn't necessary in that environment. Because of this, it took all of a month for Sam to realize what he was doing. It took all of the five minute walk to where Bucky was making coffee in the kitchen for Sam to voice his opinions about it.
"You're being an asshole for no reason James." Sam sounded annoyed, Bucky realized with a shudder. Inwardly, he swore, outwardly he did his best to respond calmly.
"Its Bucky, and I'm not sure what you're talking about but I promise I probably have good reason for whatever it was." He turned back to making squeezing honey into his mug of Joe. Sam could be heard from behind him, sighing a sigh that made Bucky want run back to his room or at the very least cover his ears until the noise stopped. "I'm guessing from that, you still don't feel too good about whatever's bothering you. Have you talked to Steve?"
Okay, maybe now he sounded a little bit bitter, sue him.
"Oh, that's real rich." Sam snorted, going up to the table Bucky was stirring his coffee at, snatching his spoon with a frown. "C'mon man pay attention to me and tell me why you're giving me the cold shoulder all the time. I know you know you're doing it."
Bucky stopped, reached for his spoon and took an anxious breath when Sam didn't let him grab it back. Confrontation in and of itself was a daunting task, but pairing it with stopping Bucky's routine had the former Winter Soldier panicking.
"Give me back my spoon." He narrowed his brows, forhead getting wrinkles (Steve had always thought they were so cute) as he did so. Sam shook his head.
"Tell me why you're ignoring me." Bucky started bouncing on his toes, heart rate increasing and eyes darting from one side of the room to the other, never meeting Sam's.
"Please." He whispered. "Please give me back my spoon."
His eyes looked to the spoon, the ground, the spoon once more.
"Oh," Sam's voice was so quiet, like Bucky's but calmer than the brunette's had been, no trace of panic. He slid the spoon back into the other person's hand. "I'm sorry man. Here, you finish that and we can talk later, yeah?"
Bucky nodded, Sam left, but after that indecent the two could be spotted watching movies with the captions on some Friday nights or going to the park together for walks.
The friends learned each other's strengths, find ways to support them through their weaknesses. Though Steve was loved by each, they developed a bond of friendship that was different from what they had with the captain. It was a closeness that differed because of the openness the two knew they could share. Bucky wasn't afraid to say when he was having a bad day, Sam didn't have to worry about hiding things he was struggling with. Of course there were things they didn't tell each other, but there was never a doubt that no matter the confession, the confessor would be accepted with ab open, never judgmental embrace.
That was why Sam was the first to believe that Bucky's therapist may not have been the best for him. He didn't know how to approach the subject however, so for a while he kept quiet as he tried to figure out how to word his feelings.
Then, one day, Bucky didn't show up for work.
This was a simple thing, an occurrence nobody would question unless they were close to him, but he had never skipped work before and, knowing that his therapist had stressed always keeping on the move whithout giving a chance for a break, Sam knew something was up.
And it was, because of course that was the day Bucky Barnes might break.
-
He'd worked late into the night, having spent the past week on one mission or another, so when he awoke that morning at 6 am sharp as he did every morning, the feeling of dread that he felt upon opening his eyes was to be expected. The twist in his stomach, the weight on his shoulders, the want to return to oblivion while simlutaniously staying up so he could cry for entire time he got dressed, were all things that had occurred in the days before. Why would this day have been any different?
Except. This day was just a repeat of every day for the week preceding it, just another shit morning atop a pile of identical shit mornings.
Except, he didn't want another shit morning, he didn't want to do this anymore. Bucky Barnes, wanted to spend the entire day crying, wallowing, and allowing himself to experience his sadness for once instead of suppressing it with work and covering it in faux happiness. He knew how that road of hidden hatred led and he was finally, finally done pretending. Maybe it wasn't the supposed healthy his therapist wanted, but he was sure if he forced himself to be like his therapist wanted for one more day without a break, he'd surely break.
So he turned off his alarm with a groan, pulled up his warm blankets, and fell asleep to the sound of the aquarium filter spilling water back into the fish tank across the room.
-
"Hey, buck?" Sam whispered when there was no response to his knock on the door. He cracked it open carefully, poking his head in as he did to see one Bucky Barnes cuddled up in the bed he usually shared with Steve when the captain wasn't away on a mission (like he was now). From the pile of flesh and fabric came a groan, as though Bucky was still awake but didn't have the energy to respond more than that.
The lights in the bedroom were off, the curtains drawn, and as Sam walked from the brightly lit hallway into the dark room, he felt like he was also stepping into a completely different emotional environment. The air was warm, the carpet beneath his feet soft and inviting.
But Bucky was none of these, all curled up in his blankets like he was hiding. Every few seconds the superhero could hear a sniff coming from the bed, see the slight shake in the mound made of humans as well as blankets. The soldier was crying, the obvious fact confirmed when Sam walked around the bed to see his face.
The two watched each other for a moment, Bucky avoiding eye contact but still focusing on the man's face while. Sam stared at the other person with a soft expression.
"What's going on here man?" He asked, quiet and soothing as though he knew that this was what the person on the bed needed. Of course, to some extent he did, given his occupation as somebody who specialises in these sorts of things. It was his job to know this, but Bucky was also someone who didn't enjoy being treated as a victim or somebody to be talked down to so this itself was something Sam needed to pay attention to so he might know how to respond to the situation at hand.
Bucky took his time when he went to speak, only for the words he decided upon using to choose in and of themselves not to be spoken. Instead, he buried his face into his pillow, covering eyes bloodshot from tears in the tan fabric.
"Okay bud, that's okay. We don't have to talk about it. " Sam reassured, patting the mattress. Bucky peered up at him over his metal arm that was laying beside his face on the pillow, turning his head slightly to do so. Sam smiled encouragingly. "You want me to stay or go?"
There was no response verbally, but the soldier raised his metal arm enough to spell with his fingers a whirring "S-T-A-Y", his eyebrows raised to indicate the question.
"I can do that. But I'm not gonna stay on the floor okay?" He stood slowly before climbing onto Steve's side of the bed, something he, Steve, and Bucky were used to doing on movie nights or when any of their trio was upset enough to need some platonic cuddles. Bucky turned over as he slid beneath the covers, accepting the hug offered soon after, the food that followed a few hours later, and the Skype call Sam set up so they could talk to Steve while the two sat bundled up in the bed.
And okay, Bucky didn't feel 100% better. But it was a start, and that's what mattered.