Bucky was so sick of the aftermath of Hydra's torture and the seventy years he spent under their rule, that nowadays he tended to just shove it all as far away as he could.

His therapist had told him that it was in no way a healthy coping mechanism, but Bucky figured that after seven years of dealing with this shit he could be cut some slack.

Today wasn't supposed to be any different from all the other days he had spent with those horrific memories but something was off.

Bucky didn't know what exactly made this day so special but he was slightly shaking and sweating and even low sounds and noises set him off, his conditioning lurking too close under the surface for comfort, even after all these years.

And yet he powered through his day like nothing was wrong. He wasn't going to succumb to this yet again, but he hadn't bet on Natasha.

They hadn't been together long, certainly not long enough for him to just admit that he was yet again too weak to stay on top of this, and so he went to the gym to get his nerves back under control.

But Natasha was not called a super spy for nothing and it didn't even took her two minutes of watching Bucky push weights, that could even damage his metal arm, to realize that something was definitely wrong.

When he lowered the bar to get something to drink she was at his side in an instant.

"I don't know what's wrong with you, but you'll be coming with me now," she demanded and her tone left no room for arguments.

So he shuffled after her onto her floor and obediently stepped into the bathroom when she pushed him there.

"Wash up, Barnes, you stink, and then come join me."

He didn't ask where he was supposed to find her, she would make sure that he would, and so he stepped into the shower and nearly scrubbed his skin off, because suddenly he felt dirty all over again.

When he was done, skin pink from the scrubbing and the scalding temperature of the water, he found some clothes laid out for him. Bucky was surprised to see that Natasha took out his favourites, all soft and worn clothes, mostly there to keep him warm and sheltered and he gladly stepped into all of them.

He walked out into the living-room when he couldn't find Natasha in the bedroom and she was sitting on the couch. When he walked around it, Bucky could see that she was huddled under an absurd amount of blankets, ice and chips, beer and water right in front of her on the table and she was currently picking out a movie.

"Thanks for this," Bucky said, "but I'll think I'll be going now."

"Nonsense," she stated and opened up the blankets to make room for him. "Come here."

He hesitated, still not sure about this whole thing, and Natasha sighed.

"You're clearly hurting, so stop putting up a strong front and come here."

It wasn't a request and Bucky found himself moving without his permission.

He gingerly made his way into the nest Natasha made, keeping some distance, because he wasn't sure how the protocol went here, they had only been on two dates so far, but Natasha clearly had other things in mind.

"Get down here, you idiot," she scolded him fondly and then pulled his head into her lap, arranging the blankets anew so that he was covered from the neck down.

She selected the movie, moved the ice container closer and then just started to stroke his head, occasionally offering him a spoon of her ice.

It took Bucky some time, but eventually he relaxed and then he practically arched into her touch.

"You don't need to hide from me," she mumbled when she noticed it and Bucky opened his eyes again to stare at the screen.

"Wasn't sure we're at this stage yet. I want to do this right."

"You're doing it right. Just include me and you're good," Natasha replied and Bucky turned around to bury his face in her stomach.

"'Kay," he mumbled and she chuckled before she resumed the stroking. Bucky could definitely get used to this.