It's almost midday when Bucky finds himself sitting in his boxers alone on the floor of his room. The door is cracked open just enough for Steve to be able to look in as he paces across the broad expanse of the living room cellphone in hand. The mobile is held closer to his mouth in an attempt to keep his voice hushed while he informs Nat that it probably isn't a good time to stop by.
"Bucks not having a good day." he murmurs quietly "He's just not himself right now."
And how true the statement is.
If Bucky were any other person he wouldn't be able to hear it or the calm reply from Natasha telling Steve that "It's okay. He just needs time."
But Bucky isn't any other person.
Sometimes he can't even see himself as a person.
Not anymore.
He wishes he could be. Maybe then he'd feel some form of normalcy. Maybe just a little bit average.
Human.
Not whatever he was now.
Some freak hybrid pulled apart and recreated in a lab by men who wanted nothing more than a weapon. A predator.
The thought makes Bucky's gaze lift back up to the reflection staring back at him through the full length mirror that sits in the corner. Hes close enough, that he can reach out and touch it's smooth surface if he wanted to. But he doesn't. That would make a sad reality sink in much too quickly. He's not ready. Doesn't know if he'll ever be. Because now he's not just Bucky Barnes or The Feral Soldier. He's both. And both of those things don't fit together. Can't figure out how to coexist in one body.
Bucky watches cat like pupils dilate when Steve walks past the door. The blonde mans larger frame blocks the light coming in for just a second.
It wasn't natural.
Neither was the large set of tiger like ears now sitting atop Bucky's head or the long thick tail lying limply on the floor, curling around him just slightly. Bucky opens his mouth to see the impressive fangs now located where his canines once were and bristles slightly in anger.
They shouldn't be there. He shouldn't want to pounce things that moved or sink his claws into the neck of any man belligerent enough to give Steve so much as a sideways glance. He shouldn't feel the need to stalk through the house at night or let out a deep rumbling growl when he felt threatened or when someone he didn't know walked into his house, his territory and go near his Stevie. Shouldn't be able to contort his body the way he did or retract the claws now marring the once pristine surface of the hardwood flooring where he sat.
Buckys curls his lips back at the reflection in the mirror, ears pressed flat, eyes glistening with frustration and self loathing.
It wasn't right. Nothing about him was right anymore and he didn't want it, never wanted any of the sick injections or months of testing that changed him into this brainsick beast now glaring back at him with eyes slitted like a demons.
Bucky lets out an inhuman noise that almost sounds like a sob and reaches up to rip the unwanted appendages from his head. It hurts and he feels sharp claws digging into sensitive flesh. The copper scent of blood makes its way into the air. He tugs harder. The fine point of his pinky nail pierces through the skin in multiple places like a crazed scientists syringe.
The memory fills him with anguish. Blood flows freely from his wounds, into dark hair, and now slowly down the right side of his face. Metal cuts through the skin right beneath his collarbone before he feels something grab onto the prosthetics wrist and quickly pull it back.
Steve yells his name. Begs him to stop. Bucky thrashes against Steve's hold letting out a litany of angry growls and snorts.
Steve holds the mechanical arm back as much as best he can and pulls back Bucky's flesh arm unaware of the hold his claws have on it. One good yank and Bucky almost roars in pain and frustration causing Steve to let go as soon as the sound bursts through mostly human lips.
The room is filled with panicked shouting and deep growls that change in pitch when Bucky is pinned to the floor with a tumultuous thud.
Bucky struggles until Steve grabs him by his jaw and forces him to make eye contact. His eyes instantly widen at the dire look on his friends face.
"Buck!"
Buckys heart clenches painfully.
"Bucky it's okay.. Please stop."
"Steve.."
"..Youre okay."
The words break something in Bucky's chest. He forces his face out of Steve's grasp, looking off to the side in a desperate attempt to hide in any way he can.
Buckys chest visibly shakes. He takes in a deep sudden breath and lets out a deep yowl transitioning into a sob that wracks his entire frame.
Steve's right hand moves to the crying mans hair in an attempt to sooth the hybrid. Bucky pushes it away and tries curling into himself. The motion goes unheeded. Steve refuses to relent, shushing his friend in a calming manner that takes them both back to a time way before any of this would have been thought possible.
Steve lets go of Bucky's other right wrist to place a careful hand on a tear stained cheek completely aware of the sharp fangs beneath the skin.
"No!" Bucky yells turning his head again "Nonono!"
He takes in a breath and lets out another anguished cry. Fresh tears fall from his eyes mixing with the blood on his cheek.
No it wasn't okay.
He wasn't okay.
Steve pushes the wet hair matted to his forehead away. Red sticks to his fingers making Bucky want to scream.
This wasn't fair. None of it was any bit fucking fair.
Gentle words come from the man sitting above him. Soft assurances that they were both safe and okay. This does nothing to calm the battered sounds coming from the fragmented man still bleeding on the floor. Steve covers Bucky's body with his own receiving little resistance before pulling him up and into his familiar lap. Bucky curls into his lifelong friend, hides his face in the crook of Steve's neck forgetting about the smear of red covering almost half his face. Strong arms wrap around him. This feels like the safest way to hide.
"I gotcha, Bucky. I'm still here."
The big cats tail curls inward and around himself. His good ear swivels back pressing itself against his head as the other trembles and flutters in pain flicking blood onto the floor and Steve's grey shirt.
"No.." Bucky sobs again "No more.. I don't wann'em."
The arms around him tighten.
"Don't wanna be this, Steve. I can't..."
"...Can't what, Buck? I'll listen."
Bucky shakes his head and pulls into himself more in an attempt to be smaller. He ducks his head, putting it under Steve's jaw and shielding himself from the rest of the world. The room is silent except for mournful noises and stuttering breaths. These eventually taper off into quiet whimpers and sniffles that then lessen into silence.
Steve stays still. Bucky's shoulders tremble. A claw tipped hand still grasps into the blood stained shirt like a stay like that until all bleeding stops and the blood matted in the fur of Bucky's ear is crusty and dry.
Steve is the first to move. He gives Bucky a light squeeze before pulling back slightly to survey the damage inflicted to his ear. Bucky ducks his head further down hunching his shoulders in shame. He'll be like this for the rest of the night, at least, and if not cared for correctly it'll go on for the next few days until Steve has to climb up into the loft to retrieve him or pull Bucky into bed to be held close. It only works if they're in Steve's bed and Steve isn't exactly sure why.
Bucky refuses to make eye contact. His long tail is still wrapped around his body. An almost undetectable rumbling vibrates though Bucky's chest. Steve hopes it isn't a growl.
"C'mon, Buck… We gotta get you cleaned up."
The lack of response strengthens the tinge of worry in Steve's chest.
"Bucky.."
The hybrid shakes his head.
Steve combs his fingers through brown locks dragging blunt nails across the half felines scalp. It takes a moment but eventually Bucky pushes back into the touch.
Steve takes this as a sign that Buckys ready and gently removes the big cat from his lap. Bucky clings for a moment before letting Steve stand.
It takes some gentle coaxing and reminders that Steve would never leave but eventually they make it to the bathroom.
They sit in silence at first. The sound of water coming from the faucet echoes through the room before Steve holds a washcloth beneath it's steady stream.
They don't bother with disinfectants. They don't have to. Their serums do it for them.
Bucky winces when the warm rag first touches his mutilated ear. Steve does his best to be gentle.
"I'm gonna have to stitch you up, Buck."
The ear twitches.
"Try to keep it still. You've got it in three different pieces now."
It doesn't take long to sew the thin flesh back together. They'd both been trained to do it and they've both seen worse. Much worse.
Afterwards Steve runs hot water through Bucky's hair with the showerhead combing his fingers through it slowly until the water runs clear against the pale porcelain of the tub. Bucky doesn't say word or make a sound. His ears twitch as the water hits them but other than that hes perfectly still with his thick tail hanging limply over the side of the tub. There is still little to no eye contact being made but it's expected. Steve knows hes tired and shut down, hiding somewhere deep within himself behind a wall of instinct he'd never been taught to manage.
Learning how to live again was something they'd never signed up for but both of them had to do. Steve with his new, larger, healthier body and status. Bucky with a deadly metal claw tipped arm and catlike parts that came with a whole new slew of emotions and wants he'd never known or experienced before. With heightened senses that surpassed Steve's serum fueled ones and a hunters mind implanted within his own human one. Both thrown into a different century. At first apart, now finally together.
"Okay, Bucky." Steve squeezes the excess moisture from the ends of the hybrids hair, "I'm all done now… So I can either leave you alone or you can stay with me. Either one will be fine. Theres no wrong choice."
Bucky's head is ducked slightly, ears still pulled back. His hair covers his face like a curtain blocking him off from the world. Slowly, he reaches forward and grasps Steve's bloodied shirt, pulling him closer. He rests his head against Steve's broad chest. Warm and familiar. Steve feels another small tug on his shirt. Bucky presses it against his face and inhales deeply, nuzzling into the fabric. It's warm and safe and Steve which is all that matters.
Steve's mouth quirks up at the corner in a small lopsided grin and wraps his arms around his lifelong friend. With a small happy sigh he rests his forehead against the crown of Bucky's head careful to avoid the sore appendage.
"Okay." he murmurs happily to himself, Bucky, and the universe "It's okay."