I feel like I need to throw up a trigger warning here. So yeah, there's a lot of angst and depressing shit and kind of detailed war scenes. So lots of death talk and such and just like, if you have depression or PTSD or anxiety or ANYTHING that can be triggered by reading this, you might not want to. But other wise, I hope you enjoy and there will be more author notes at the end if you're interested.

Session 1

James Buchanan Barnes wasn't really one for therapy. He preferred to deal with his problems on his own rather than go pour all his issues on a stranger. But ever since he's come back from the war, he found he was having problems sleeping at night, and according to his friends and family, he was more on edge and bitter.

So, after much coercing, here he was, sitting in his new psychiatrist's office, waiting for the man to come in for his early morning appointment.

He let out a long, weary sigh as he looked out the large bay window. He really did not want to be here right now. Not when he could have been attempting to get just a couple more hours of sleep. Even with the nightmares, he still managed to get something before the night was out, even if it wasn't much.

"Sorry I'm late Mr. Barnes, I don't normally have patients at such an early hour." His therapist's low, smooth voice said as he entered the room, catching James' attention. He quickly turned his gaze towards the door, his eyes widening slightly as he looked the man over.

He was really skinny, bordering on anorexic, and short. Not terribly so, but James knew he was definitely taller than the small man. He was dressed nicely, wearing slacks with a white button up and a grey sweater over that. His hair was short and golden blond, brushed nicely into place. Perched on his nose was a pair of square shaped glasses, and behind those glasses were a pair of the bluest eyes James had ever seen.

"Though I guess that's not really a proper excuse now is it?" He said with a small laugh, looking sheepishly at James as he started to set his things down on a small table. "You haven't been waiting too long have you?"

James quickly dragged himself from his thoughts and shook his head dismissively.

"No, it's alright, I haven't been waiting long." He responded politely.

"That's good." He said, sounding relieved. He then held out his hand and smiled brightly at James. "Anyways, it's nice to finally meet you Mr. Barnes."

"You can just call me Bucky." James dismissed quickly before cringing slightly as he realized what name he'd given the man. "Bucky" was a chubby faced twelve year old that he outgrew many years ago.

The therapist nodded slightly in recognition.

"Bucky then. Steve Rogers." He responded with that painstakingly gorgeous smile.

James quickly stood from his seat, taking the offered hand in his own and shaking it politely. Steve then gestured for him to return to his seat as he took his own seat in the chair across from James'.

"So, Bucky, what seems to be troubling you?" Steve asked curiously. James looked at him a bit oddly as he shifted slightly in his seat.

"You already know what's wrong, it's in my chart." He said confusedly, glancing over to the chart that laid on the small table wedged between their chair. Steve nodded slightly in agreement.

"Yes, I know what's technically wrong with you. You can't sleep, you're paranoid, on edge, snapping at people. You're a soldier, you're suffering from PTSD. I've heard it all before, it never really changes from person to person, they just each deal with it in their own way. So if you want to discuss your army days that's fine, however I won't force you to talk about that. I just want you to talk about whatever's going to make you feel better." Steve explained calmly. James stared at him for a moment, but Steve just threw him a small smile in return.

When James continued to stay silent though, Steve let out a small sigh as he started to write on his note pad. James watched him in confusion for a moment, trying to figure out what he could've been writing on the note pad. After all, it's not like he could really be taking notes of him if he wasn't talking. Right?

"You know, I wanted to be in the army for a while." He said, glancing up at James. Said man raised his brow to this as he looked over Steve.

"Really?" He asked, a small smile pulling at his lips and hint of unintentional amusement in his tone. Steve smiled and nodded in confirmation.

"Yeah. I used to apply as often as I could, but I was constantly declined due to my many, many ailments." James looked at him curiously.

"What ailments?"

Steve smiled to himself as he pushed his glasses up on his nose.

"Asthma, Scoliosis, Fallen Arches, Heart Arrhythmia, Partial Deafness, Stomach Ulcers and Pernicious Anemia. Plus I get sick very easily." Steve watched in amusement as James' expression slowly changed from curiosity to absolute horror.

"... Why are you even leaving your house?" James asked after a short silence, making Steve laugh.

"Well, they've fixed a lot of my issues now. Medical science has come a long way." Steve said as he returned his attention to his notepad. "I do, however, still suffer from Asthma and I still get sick very easily. But at the time, these things were all issues when I was trying to enlist in the army. Finally I gave up on that and got into good old psychology."

"Why psychology?" James asked, making Steve shrug slightly in response.

"I guess I figured if I couldn't save people physically, then I could at least save them mentally." Steve answered, his eyes flicking back up to James for a moment.

"That's very noble." Steve chuckled and shrugged at this statement.

"I guess so." He said before putting down his notepad and turning his full attention to James. "So why did you enlist?"

James paused for a moment. He was still kind of apprehensive about telling a stranger about his personal life, but for some reason he relented.

"I guess I kind of thought it would make me a better person..." He licked his lips at this point, before sucking the lower one between his teeth and turning his gaze towards the window. "Some how I feel like it only made me worse though..."

"Why do you think that?" Steve asked with a questioning gaze. James glanced back over to Steve, but said nothing as he shrugged in response.

"So did you go see that therapist?" Natasha asked curiously before taking a bite of her pasta.

James glanced over to her with a raised brow before nodding.

"Yeah, we didn't really talk much though." He answered. Natasha rolled her eyes at this point.

"Seriously James? How are you supposed to get the help you need if you don't tell him anything?"

James clentched his jaw in frustration as he looked around the small restaurant.

"I don't even talk to my friends about this shit, how am I supposed to talk to a stranger about it?"

Session 2

It had been a week since James' last appointment with his blond haired, blue eyed therapist, and here he was again, heading into the man's office. Upon entering, he found Steve organizing some things at his desk. He looked up when he heard him enter and smiled in response.

"Bucky, good to see you again." He said happily.

"Uh, you too?" James responded, unsure.

"Please, have a seat." Steve said, briefly gesturing to the chairs they'd sat in the week prior before he returned to what he was doing. James nodded slightly as he moved across the room to sit down. He watched as Steve quickly moved his neat pile of folders into one of the bottom drawers of his desk. He then straightened out his button up shirt as he moved to sit with James.

"So, how have things been since your last visit?" Steve asked casually as he picked up his note pad from the small table between their chairs. James shrugged slightly in response.

"Okay I guess." He answered. "How have you been?"

Steve blinked in surprise. He wasn't often asked that by patients, and generally it was out of courtesy. Though he got the feeling that James was asking out of genuine curiosity right now.

"I've been good. Kind of a long week, but good none the less." Steve replied with a smile. "Did you do anything fun over the weekend?"

"Yeah, kind of. I went out drinking with some friends. Got smashed, had a good nights sleep." James said with a small smile.

"Well, I guess that's kind of a good thing, though as a psychiatrist I don't think I'm supposed to approve of alcohol as a sleep aid." Steve remarked with a slight chuckle. James chuckled as well and nodded slightly in agreement.

"You probably shouldn't, no. But it's not like I've made it into a habit or something, so I don't think you have to worry too much about it." He added, running a hand through his long hair.

"Agreed. So, did you do anything other than drink this weekend?"

James thought it over for a moment before slowly nodding in confirmation.

"I had lunch with my friend Natasha."

Steve looked intrigued.

"Okay. And did that go well?" He asked. James nodded slightly.

"Yeah. She thinks it should be easy for me to open up to you because I don't know you on a personal level, and apparently that helps a lot of people when opening up to a shrink." Steve nodded in a mix of understanding and agreement.

"Well, she is correct, that does help a lot of people, kind of like a none judgmental thing to them, because they don't know you on a personal level. But I can't say I blame you for being closed off. You're a soldier and trust doesn't always come easily to people after they get out of the military. So we can take this as slowly as you need to." Steve responded with a reassuring smile. James nodded slightly as he spoke, a small smile gracing his features by the end of his explanation.

There were gunshots and screams of sheer terror surrounding him, ringing through his ears as he stared down the scope of his M1941 Johnson Rifle. He didn't know how he managed to stay calm through all the chaos, he never knew, but he knew that wasn't his concern right now. No. His concern was with the man that his rifle was currently trained on. He steeled himself as he slowly pulled the trigger.

With a gasp, James shot up right in his bed, eyes wide and his body drenched in sweat. He slowly looked around his room, dimly lit by the television he'd seemingly left on as his breathing calmed. Though his heart was still pounding quickly in his chest as his most recent nightmare flashed through his mind once more.

Session 5

James was seated once more in Steve's office, staring out the large bay window as Steve wrote on his notepad once more, glancing in his direction frequently. He'd been there for about twenty minutes, and he hadn't said anything since he'd entered the office when he'd mumbled a quiet greeting to Steve.

"Bucky, are you doing alright? You don't look so well today." Steve commented, his concern finally breaking through as he moved his note pad off his lap. Honestly, the man looked like a wreck today. His eyes were dull and lifeless in a way with dark circles under them from his lack of sleep. His hair was kind of messy and hung in his face, showing that he'd probably tossed and turned that night and hadn't bothered to fix it before he left the house. His skin looked paler as well, making him kind of wonder if James was sick, though he doubted that was the problem.

Steve kind of had a feeling he knew what was wrong, after all, he had dealt with his fair share of patients suffering from PTSD, but he wasn't going to jump to conclusions, and he wasn't going to force James to talk about it if he didn't want to.

James slowly turned his attention to Steve. His expression was full of skepticism at first, but as he looked over Steve and saw the genuine concern on his face, he appeared to soften, relaxing in his chair as he licked his lips.

"Yeah, I..." James trailed off, looking back to the window for a moment before he rubbed a hand over his face. "I had another nightmare last night..."

Steve seemed to perk up at this. James hadn't really opened up about his PTSD before. He had confirmed that he had issues with it of course, though he never went into detail. So Steve tried to keep the surprise off his face for now, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry to hear that... Did you... Want to discuss it?" Steve offered cautiously. James pursed his lips as he tapped his hands together, seeming to ponder the question for a minute as he looked out the window. He nodded slightly, almost imperceptibly so, though Steve still managed to catch it some how.

"I dreamed that I was back there... I was on a roof with... With my rifle." James paused as he leaned forward in his chair, dropping his head as he propped one of his arms on his leg while he shoved his hand into his hair and gripped at the long strands. Steve looked at him worriedly. He wanted to comfort him, but he had this feeling that James would immediately close up if he tried anything. So instead he stayed silent, allowing him all the time he needed to get the words out.

"There was gun fire and screaming... And so many people were dying..." He said quietly, tears filling his eyes as he thought back on the dream. Though he knew it was more than that. He knew it was another memory that plagued his mind every day like all the others. "But I couldn't do anything about it... I couldn't stop those people from dying. All I could do was add to the death toll... Because that was my mission..."

"Man, you look like you've been feeling better lately." Sam commented, effectively catching James' attention. James looked at him for a moment before shrugging.

"I guess, kind of." He responded, a small smirk coming to his face.

"I take it that shrink's been working out pretty well then huh?" Natasha mused as she took a sip of her coffee. James ran a hand through his hair as he nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, he has..."

Session 7

James and Steve sat in a comfortable silence this week as Steve wrote on his note pad once again, James watching curiously as he glanced up at him every now and again. At points he'd pause, pursing his lips as he tapped his pen against the paper, seeming to think about what he was doing for a moment before he'd continue. James, of course, was absolutely confused by this. What could he possibly be writing? They weren't even talking.

Finally Steve looked up once again, this time catching the questioning look on James' face when he did and stopping what he was doing as he suddenly looked a bit worried.

"I'm sorry, am I offending you? I can stop if you like." Steve said worriedly, moving to place his notepad and pen onto the small table, though he stopped when James simply shook his head.

"I was just wondering what you were writing on there. I mean, you're always writing on it when I'm not talking, but you put it down when I do, so I was just trying to figure out what you were doing." He said, a small smile pulling at his lips.

Steve blinked in surprise, smiling sheepishly in return as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Oh, I'm not really writing anything actually." Steve answered, making James' brows pinch together in confusion.

"Then, what are you doing?" He asked confusedly.

"I'm drawing. Here, take a look." Steve leaned forward in his chair a bit as he held out the note pad to James, revealing a picture of himself. James' eyes widened in shock as he took the note pad.

"Holy shit..." He breathed out as he looked over the picture. It was extremely realistic so far, and they'd only been sitting here for half an hour at this point.

"Language." Steve scolded before he even realized what he was doing, dragging James' attention to him as he looked up, blinking out of his stupor before he suddenly snorted in amusement.

"Really Steve?" He questioned amusedly, a wide smile on his face. Steve immediately placed a hand over his eyes in embarrassment, though he couldn't help but smile as well, knowing how ridiculous it sounded.

"I know. It just slipped out."

"I'll let it slid this time." James said with a chuckle as he turned his attention back to the note pad. Steve's smile widened slightly at the comment as he moved his hand away from his eyes, those blue orbs moving to watch as James examined his handy work.

"So this is what you do when we're just sitting here?" He asked, glancing up at Steve.

"Yeah, just a little something to amuse me during the silence. I've actually drawn several of my other patients. Though you're the most frequent on there lately." Steve remarked unthinkingly. James looked up at him in a mix of curiosity and amusement, watching as a blush spread across Steve's face.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry. That must have sounded so creepy. I just meant like... Because you're so quiet during our sessions so I just..." Steve said awkwardly, moving his hands as he spoke as he tried to convey his meaning. James just laughed in response, smiling brightly at Steve.

"It's okay, I know what you meant." James reassured, though he couldn't help but be amused by Steve's embarrassment over the situation.

"Look, James, it's not you. Well... Not completely. I just... I thought I could do this with you, I thought maybe I could help you deal with your problems, but I was very obviously wrong." Bethany, James' most recent romantic endeavor, said in a tone that conveyed both frustration and apologeticism.

This, of course, was nothing new to James. Ever since he'd returned from his service in the army it had been rather difficult for him to hold down a relationship for more than a month. Everyone got into it not really understanding the affects of PTSD, they always figured it was just a minor problem and they could easily fix it. They quickly found out how wrong they were though.

"I didn't know what I was getting myself into." Obviously. "I wasn't prepared to have to put this much work into a relationship." They never were. "I wish it didn't have to end this way. You're a really nice guy." He couldn't listen to this anymore. He'd heard this speech countless times before, he was sick of it. "I'm really-"

"Bethany, why are you still here?" He asked bluntly, shocking the girl for a moment before an offended expression overcame her features.

"Excuse me?" She questioned.

James stood from his seat at this point, looking down at Bethany.

"I don't need, nor want your excuses. I've heard them all a hundred times before you. If you want out, just say it and leave, spare me the bullshit." He said bluntly before walking away from the conversation, leaving Bethany on his couch, watching in shock as he walked off to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. After a few minutes of silence, he heard his apartment door slam shut and let out a sigh of frustration as he rubbed his hand over his face.

Session 15

"So, my girlfriend broke up with me." James remarked, folding his hands in his lap.

"Bethany?" Steve asked, looking at him questioningly.

"Yeah. She finally got fed up with my disability." James said, smiling bitterly to himself. The break up didn't hurt per se, though it did kind of hurt that nobody could seem to stay with him longer than a month because of his mental issues. In fact, it was rather rude in his opinion to be so discriminatory.

"I'm very sorry to hear that." Steve said in his calm, soothing tone, looking at James apologetically. Though James simply waved him off as he shook his head.

"It was bound to happen. Everyone gets into the relationship thinking they can handle it, then after dealing with it they realize they can't and just drop me. I few of them have actually told me I'm insane... I've been through so many relationships since I got back from the war you'd think I'm some kind of player." James responded with a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood. Though Steve didn't look very amused. James rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he spoke up once more. "I'm used to it by now though."

"That doesn't make it right. You're a human being, you deserve better than that." Steve said defensively. "And calling you insane is most definitely inappropriate. They don't know the things you've seen, they have no right to judge you for being scarred by something as traumatizing as war."

James stared at him for a moment, allowing his words to sink in for a moment before he slowly nodded in agreement, though he didn't say anything more on the subject.

"So uh... You got a special lady in you're life?" James asked, hoping to take the spot light off him for a bit. Steve's eyes widened in surprise for a moment at the sudden question.

"Oh, no..." He responded in an odd tone, seeming to realize almost immediately how it sounded and quickly speaking up once more in an attempt to mend it. "No! I mean, um... I'm not... I mean... I'm not into... Women..."

"Okay. So, a special man then?" James asked, smirking slightly at how awkward Steve was at the moment. He seemed to lighten up at how calm and casual James remained in his panic.

"No. No, I'm... Completely unattached." He said, smiling cutely at James.

James sat on his bed, his hands gripping tightly to his long strands of hair as his body shook. His eyes wide and leaking as he stared into the darkness that currently surrounded him.

All he could seemingly think about tonight was all the death he had seen in his short life. Every time he closed his eyes to go to sleep, all he could see was blood. Every little noise was like another gun shot ringing through his ears, the mark of another life taken too soon. And he couldn't stop it...

Hell, part of him didn't want to stop it back then...

Session 24

"Is something wrong Bucky?" Steve's calm, yet worrying voice inquired, breaking James out of his trance like state and pulling his attention to the blond seated across from him. His brows were pinched together in his worry and a small frown pulled down the corners of his lips, though his eyes remained wide with curiosity and confusion as James gave him a once over. After a moment of staring at him though, James finally averted his gaze to the window before he quietly spoke up.

"Why did you want to be in the army Steve?"

Steve blinked in surprise at the question, but was able to easily respond. "I don't like bullies. I don't care where they're from."

James nodded slightly in understanding as he stuck his tongue out to lick his lips. He didn't say anything more for a few minutes though, and Steve was beginning to get more and more confused and concerned by his behavior. He couldn't help but wonder if something had happened, but even with how long they had been meeting like this, he still wouldn't dare to question James too much for fear that he would just suddenly close up on him. He'd done it several times in the past when Steve had been bold enough to try pushing for an answer, so when he got like this, Steve tried to allow him to take his time responding to him. He always did eventually.

"I joined because I thought maybe, that for once in my life, I could do something good for the world..." James started to explain. His voice was strained and Steve could see tears welling up in the man's eyes, and his heart ached at the sight. Though he didn't say anything as James continued. "And in the beginning I thought I was right. Cause when I got there I... I actually felt like a better person for a bit, I felt like I was doing something good. But then... The more missions I got, the more death I saw... And that good feeling started to slip away more and more... Some days... I just felt evil... Because some days, it felt like such a relief when I would kill someone. And I didn't want it to stop because it was as close to that good feeling I could get anymore..."

James paused, gritting his teeth as he pushed down a sob that threatened to escape his throat. Tears were starting to spill from his eyes at this point and he slowly lifted his hand to wipe them away with his palm before continuing.

"So I took more missions, and I killed more people... And there were days I just felt like I couldn't stop myself if I wanted to... And when I came back here, all of that... Every single mission, every single death... Every single life taken from this world and every single feeling I felt... It all came crashing down on me like a ton of bricks. And I... I can't forgive myself for that..." James sucked in a shaky breath as he covered his eyes, his body shaking as he silently cried.

It was silent for a moment as James tried, in vain, to calm himself down, while Steve watched him with unshed tears of his own. He felt terrible listening to James speak just now, and he wanted nothing more than to comfort him, but he couldn't figure out what to say just yet. He knew he had to hurry though, before the moment passed and James calmed down enough to dismiss the situation.

Finally he came up with something.

"What if I forgive you?" He asked quietly, his words seeming to startle James as he slowly moved his hand away from his eyes and turned to look at Steve from the corner of his eye.

"What?" He questioned shakily.

"What if I forgive you?" Steve repeated as he shifted in his seat. James looked absolutely puzzled by the suggestion.

"Why would you forgive me?" He asked confusedly.

"Because I can tell that you think I'm a good person. You want to be forgiven James, but you don't think you have the right to be forgiven by yourself because you're a bad person in your eyes. You need someone that's good to forgive you. To tell you that what you did then was okay and that it's not your fault." Steve explained. James stared at him for a moment before slowly shaking his head.

"You're just saying that to make me feel better." He whispered.

What was Steve supposed to do now? He didn't realize that explaining his reasoning would be a down fall. How was he supposed to make James understand that he wasn't just saying this to make him feel better, but that he actually did feel this way?

Steve sucked in a deep breath as he stood from his seat, stepping in front of James' chair and getting down on his knees in front of the man. He reached up, grabbing onto his shoulders in hopes that James would look at him properly, though when that didn't seem to work, he cautiously moved his hands to cup his cheeks, gently moving his head so that he would look at him. Doing this was against his moral code as a doctor, but he didn't care at the moment. Right now he just really wanted to make James feel better.

"James. I really do mean it when I say that I don't think anything you did or felt back then was your fault. War is a terrible thing. It does a lot of messed up things to people, and when your there, on the front lines, dealing with it every day, you have to find a way to cope with everything that's happening. So please, believe me when I say that I don't blame you for anything that happened back there, and that I forgive you." Steve spoke in his calm, soothing voice, watching as James slowly crumbled at his words. He shocked the blond as he suddenly pulled him into a hug, his body trembling as he buried his face in his shoulder.

The rational side of Steve screamed at him to pull away, that this was unethical. But the caring side of Steve, which was the majority of his mind, told him to comfort the young soldier. So he slowly returned the hug, rubbing James' back comfortingly as he silently continued to cry.

James sat on Natasha's couch, his head in his hands as he stared down at his lap. He didn't know why he was here at the moment. Normally he didn't talk to other people about this shit. Normally he didn't talk to people about any of his shit. Well, except for his therapist lately. But he couldn't go to Steve about this situation. Not yet at least, and he really felt like he needed to talk this out with someone right now.

So, Natasha it was.

After all, she was his most trustworthy friend, it's not like she was gonna go spreading this around. And best of all, she'd probably have some good advice for him.

"What's wrong?" She questioned with a raised brow. To anyone else, her tone probably would've sounded cold and uncaring, though James had known her long enough to be able to hear that barely there hint of concern in her voice.

James was silent for a moment, trying to figure out how to say what was on his mind.

"I think... I have feelings for my therapist..." He said quietly. Natasha took a moment to process this information.

"Wow, you really are screwed up." She remarked in amusement.

James groaned as he flopped over on her couch, now covering his face with his hands.

"You're not helping Nat!" He grumbled in his frustration, making Natasha smile in amusement.

"It's not that big of a deal James. It's not like you're the first person to have feelings for your therapist." Natasha responded matter-of-factly.

"But what do I do?" He asked, finally moving his hands away from his face to look at Natasha questioningly.

"You tell him. And then you stop seeing him." She answered simply. James' expression dropped immediately at this, his face now deadpan as he stared at Natasha.

"What?" He asked, his voice low and mildly dangerous. Though Natasha was unaffected by his seemingly threatening tone.

"Look, he's not going to date you if you're his patient, it's against his moral code as a doctor. But if you're no longer his patient, you have a better shot at becoming more than just another therapy session."

James stared at her for a moment as he thought it over before turning his attention to the ceiling above. He wasn't completely sure what he wanted to do yet. But at least now he had someone on his side.

Session 30

It had been three weeks since James had last come to see his therapist, avoiding his scheduled sessions since he'd spoken to Natasha about his feelings. Finally he'd come to the conclusion that his friend was right about what he needed to do.

"Bucky, I'm glad to see you. I was afraid something had happened to you. How have you been?" Steve asked, smiling softly at him as he waited for a response.

"I've been alright, I've just had a lot on my mind." James answered, twiddling his fingers nervously.

"Well, that hardly seems like an excuse to avoid you're therapist." Steve said with a laugh. "But considering who I'm talking to, I guess I can understand why you would vanish like that."

James smirked in response and nodded slightly in his agreement, though he didn't say anything in response.

"So, did you want to discuss what's been on your mind? Or is there something else you wanted to talk about?" Steve asked curiously.

James bit his lip as he pondered the question for a moment.

"I think I found someone. Someone I really like and want to be with." James answered slowly, watching for Steve's response. He seemed a bit surprised at first, then his surprise seemed to shift to resent for barely a second before he appeared to look curious.

"Well that's good. I take it this person is very special then?" Steve asked curiously.

"Yeah, they're... They're pretty special... They uh... They've been really supportive of me and the things that I've gone through. They actually care about me and have been trying very hard to make sure that I've been feeling better as of late." James explained, his eyes glued to Steve as he spoke. Steve nodded slightly in understanding.

"Sounds like they're pretty amazing. When did you meet?"

James smiled, looking down for a moment before making eye contact with Steve.

"About seven and a half months ago. My friends and family were concerned about my mental state. So my army buddy Sam told me about this shrink, even helped me set up an appointment. And when I came in for my first appointment, he was late, but I didn't mind. And even though we didn't speak much that first day, I had really enjoyed our appointment some how. So I started going in every week for another appointment, and we shared a lot about ourselves with each other, even though to most, that would have defeated the purpose of a psychiatrist. But he did everything he could, even if it was against his code of ethics, to make sure that I was okay." As he spoke, he watched Steve's expression slowly change from confusion, to understanding, to happiness, then realization as he seemingly remembered that he was a doctor, and doctor's were not supposed to fraternize with their patients.

"Bucky, I can't-" Steve began, though James immediately held up his hand to stop him.

"I know you can't be with a patient, and that's okay, I understand. So I've made up my mind about this whole therapist thing." James said, receiving an odd look from Steve. James smiled in response and stood from his chair.

"I don't need a therapist anymore. This is my last visit." James announced, Steve's eyes going wide in shock.

"What?" Steve questioned in his confusion. Though he only received a nod of confirmation.

"I am no longer your patient. Thanks for all your help Dr. Rogers. It's been a real pleasure." James said politely before heading towards the door. The secretary looked up in curiosity as he exited then smiled upon seeing him.

"Hello Mr. Barnes. Did you have a good session today?" She asked curiously. James nodded as he walked over to the desk.

"Yeah, it went very well." He responded politely.

"Will you be needing me to set up next weeks appointment?" She asked, moving towards the computer to pull up Steve's scheduling, though she stopped when she saw him shake his head in dismissal.

"That's alright, I won't be coming back anymore." James said, receiving a look of surprise from the woman behind the desk.

"Oh? Why's that?" She asked curiously.

"I just don't feel like I need this anymore." He answered simply.

"Oh... Okay, well. Have a good day then." She said politely, James nodding in agreement.

"You too. Goodbye Sharon."

James sighed as he walked down the street. It had been nearly a month since he'd stopped going to his psychiatrist (well, not really his psychiatrist anymore), and he was absolutely miserable not getting to see Steve every week. He missed the little blond haired, blue eyed man. But he knew he couldn't go back there. Steve had to make the final move, not him. Though he wasn't sure what he was going to do if Steve never made that move. He hadn't thought that far ahead in his plan yet...

James tucked his hands in his pockets, turning his gaze towards the darkening sky as he waited for the crosswalk. At the moment he was headed for the grocery store needing to stock up on food for the next few weeks. He really didn't like having to make too many trips to the store, it seemed unnecessary when he could just buy everything he needed in one trip. Though it probably wasn't his most genius idea to go before he'd even eaten, especially since the last time he'd put anything in his stomach was at noon and it was now nearly eight at night. His stomach felt like a pit at this point, but he pushed the issue of his hunger to the back of his mind as his thoughts were far more consumed with that of his ex-psychiatrist at the moment. He was practically on autopilot as he crossed the street with the small crowd that had been waiting along with him for the light. He continued his journey in this dazed state, right up until he was broken from his stupor by a loud, booming noise, sounding much like a bomb. His entire body froze and his eyes widened in dread, thinking there was some kind of an attack on one of the near by buildings or something. He turned to look around for the source, his whole body shaking and his ears ringing as memories flashed through his mind of near by explosions, guns firing and screams from citizens, running around in their panic stricken state as their homes were suddenly assaulted by the seemingly never ending war.

Upon his inspection, James found no threats. No smoke from bombs, no soldiers with guns running around, no screams of terror. He did, however, find colorful lights dancing in the dark sky above as more loud booms and popping sounds flooded his ears. More memories hit him like a tidal wave as he stumbled to the side of the street, leaning against a brick wall and quickly moving his hands to cover his ears as he squeezed his eyes tightly shut. His breathing was ragged and he could feel himself shaking, but he couldn't seem to calm himself down. All he could do was try to force air into his lungs and picture every horrible thing he'd ever seen. Corpses littered the ground, men, women, children, even some infants... Whole families laid out before him. Families that had been praying with everything in them every day that they wouldn't be the next to suffer from this war, children who deserved to live the rest of their lives, who didn't even know they had anything to be afraid of till it was staring them in the face, in the shape of a man aiming a gun at their bodies.

James let out a quiet sob as he crumpled to the ground, squeezing his eyes shut even tighter as he tried, in a futile attempt, to think of anything to ground him, to bring him back to earth and help calm him down. Before he managed to think of anything though, he felt a hand on his shoulder and inhaled sharply as his eyes snapped open to see who was touching him. He was immediately met with the bluest eyes he'd ever seen and golden blond hair.

He could see his lips moving as he spoke to him, but he couldn't hear anything with his hands covering his ears and the loud ringing that filled them. Slowly he moved his hands away, visibly shaking.

"Bucky, it's going to be okay." Steve said, his calm, even voice breaking through the ringing and dragging James back down to earth. James stared at him for a moment before looking around. He was still on the street. Still in Brooklyn, not at war. There were several people standing near by, watching him. Some in worry, some in curiosity, but watching him all the same.

"I... I need to go." James gasped out, quickly getting to his feet before moving around Steve and pushing his way past the crowd. He moved quickly, regardless of the fact that he could still barely breathe, and started trying to make his way back in the direction of his apartment.

"Bucky! Bucky, wait!" Steve called out behind him, running to catch up with the man. He barely caught up with him before his asthma started acting up. He grabbed onto James' arm just as he started wheezing.

"Bucky...! Please... don't go..." Steve managed through sharp intakes of air, trying to calm his burning lungs while help James.

James, thankfully, did stop, standing stock still for a moment, giving Steve the moment he needed to breathe and then suddenly turned on his heel, pulling the smaller man into a tight hug. His body shook as he breathed harshly into Steve's shoulder and allowed a couple of tears to fall from his eyes. Steve was taken aback by the sudden action, but quickly returned the embrace and whispered soothing words to James. When another loud boom sounded through the air and caused James to jump in surprise, Steve suggested they move away from the area, James nodding slightly in his agreement before Steve started to lead him away, looking for a quiet, mostly un-inhabited area where he could calm James without prying eyes.

Soon enough they found a small coffee shop with only two other patrons inside and the sounds outside were muffled by the walls. Steve lead them to a booth in the very back, where the noise could hardly be heard and no one could see them. Steve sat James on one side before scooting himself into the seat across from him, taking James' hands in his own and looking at him worriedly.

"Are you feeling better now?" Steve questioned, his voice calm and soothing. James slowly nodded in affirmation.

"Yeah... Kind of..." He muttered quietly. They sat there like that for a moment, Steve holding James' hands, rubbing his thumbs over the dorsal part of his hands while James tried to calm down and bring himself back to earth. Finally, he looked up at Steve's worried expression, locking eyes with him and swallowing thickly as he stared at those baby blues.

"Thank you..." James whispered, and Steve couldn't help but chuckle.

"No need to thank me. It's my job to help." Steve said with a kind smile. Though James only frowned as he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. Steve seemed to understand his disappointment immediately and made to correct himself.

"N-Not that that's the only reason I helped! I just meant..." He took a moment to sigh in frustration at himself before continuing. "I didn't mean it like that. I just meant... That I'm happy to help. This is why I got into psychology, to help people like you, who are suffering like this... But that's not the only reason I helped. I... I really care about you James. When I saw you, sitting there on the street, I just... That's when I knew..."

James looked at him in confusion, the wheels in his brain trying to turn but refusing as he tried to understand just what the hell Steve was saying to him.

"Knew... what?" James finally inquired after a moment of silence, making Steve let out a sharp breath as he released one of James' hands in order to rake his own hand through his hair.

"I've been thinking a lot since I last saw you, about everything you said to me that day, and I've been trying to tell myself that we still couldn't be together because you were my patient before and it still wouldn't be right, and that I don't feel those things for you, but the moment I saw you on the street..." He paused to take a deep breath, letting it out slowly before continuing. "Everything I feel for you came flooding back and I knew at that moment that all I want is to be with you. To be there for you in your darkest times and share with you the brightest."

They were quiet for a moment, James still taking everything in as he stared in confusion at Steve. Steve finally turned his attentions back to James, catching the confused look on his face and chuckling awkwardly to himself as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Sorry. I guess, what I'm trying to say is... If your offer still stands to be together, I'd really like to take you up on that offer." Steve said, smiling softly at James. Said man seemed to come back to reality at that point, letting out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding and blinking several times before looking around and running a hand through his hair.

"Shit, no, I mean... I got what you were saying I just... Fuck, I didn't think you'd actually want to be with me." James said with a small laugh, making Steve smile slightly. "It's just, after waiting so long I just thought... I mean... Fuck, yeah. Yeah, I definitely still want to be with you Steve." James finally stammered out, a bright smile taking over his face as he just stared at Steve and forgot about all of his problems waiting for him just outside the small cafe. It was the brightest he'd smiled in a long time. Steve seemed to light up at the admission, almost jumping up from his seat in his excitement but forcing himself to stay seated.

"That's fantastic!" He said happily. The two seemed to settle into an awkward silence after that, neither one really sure what to say next. After a few more moments of awkward silence, James let out a snort of amusement before starting to laugh at seemingly nothing. Steve looked up in confusion, a small smile tugging at his lips at the sound of James' laugh.

"This should not be so awkward." He laughed out as he ran a hand through his hair. Steve chuckled and nodded in agreement. After a moment, James let out a contented sigh and smiled at Steve.

"Would you maybe like to come over my place?" James offered, seeming to catch Steve off guard for a moment before a small smirk came to his lips.

"Wow, you could at least buy a guy dinner first." Steve joked and James let out another laugh.

"How about I cook you dinner?" James asked, though he quickly remembered where he had been heading in the first place before his PTSD had caused a melt down in the middle of the street. "Or... maybe order in?"

"That bad a cook huh?" Steve teased.

"More like I don't have any food at home." He corrected with a smile and Steve nodded slightly in understanding.

"I would love to come over." He finally said, smiling softly at James.

At this, James jumped up from his seat and offered his hand to Steve.

"Shall we?" He asked, and Steve was about to agree with a smile of his own, though his expression suddenly turned to that of worry as he seemed to remember something.

"What about the fireworks though?"

James had honestly forgotten about them in his excitement. His expression turned to that of surprise as he looked from Steve, to the window, then back to Steve. A small smile slowly tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"So long as your with me, I think I'll be fine." He answered, his voice soft and endearing. Steve couldn't help but stare at him for a moment before a smile blossomed on his face and he scooted himself out of the booth, accepting the offered hand and allowing James to lead them out of the small cafe.

James awoke in his bed, room dim with the sun light shining through the curtains, his blanket wrapped loosely around his waist and a small, warm body curled up next to him. James looked down, a small smile coming to his lips as he saw Steve fast asleep, head resting on his chest and scrawny arm wrapped around his waist. He could feel his shallow breaths, warm against his bare skin, and his fingers twitching slightly against his side. It had been several months since they finally got together, and James honestly could not be happier.

James had later come to find the night they got together was not only the Fourth of July, (he couldn't believe he'd forgotten what day it was then.) but was also Steve's birthday. He was rather unhappy that he hadn't been informed of that sooner so he could have done something to celebrate with him, but Steve assured him that that birthday had been his best one yet. James was determined to make sure from that point on that he always had the best birthdays ever. After that night though, him and Steve talked and met up every day, the pair practically inseparable.

It hadn't taken long for them to move in together, or for James' small group of friends to meet Steve, all of which seemed to immediately approve, especially Natasha, who quite enjoyed bantering with him. James appeared to be having a less harder time with his PTSD now that Steve was around as well. He got more sleep, and on nights when his nightmares were particularly bad, Steve would always wake up and comfort him till he could manage to fall back asleep, being very patient with him and not complaining about the inconvenience to himself (even when he was drinking cup after cup of coffee the next day in his attempt to stay awake at work). No matter how many times James would try to apologize for keeping him up, Steve would always wave him off and tell him to stop spewing nonsense. He was so kind and selfless, it always seemed to stun him in a way. He never imagined there could be anyone in the world as amazing as Steve, and yet, here he was... Curled up against James and sleeping soundly, fitting perfectly beside him like he belonged there. James didn't feel like he deserved him. But he wouldn't give him up for anything in the world.

For once, James wouldn't change a single thing in his life. He was finally happy.

Okay, so wow, that was a lot! And I'm not quite certain about the end of this, but this story has been SO LONG in the making and I just wanted to finish it and get it up. I think I've fixed all spelling errors, I've read over this thing several times and I'm just so fucking sick of looking at this x.x and I can't remember, because it's been so long since I originally started writing this, but I think there was supposed to be a sex scene in this story? O.o Yeah, that's how long ago I started writing this, I literally can't remember if I had a sex scene planned. But there is not one now and... I don't know, I think I'm actually quite happy that I didn't throw one in, I feel like it would be unnecessary for this story (just like I kind of feel like that summing up at the end is kind of unnecessary and also really sappy and kind of cheesy but I'm gonna leave it because I don't want to leave the story off with them exiting the cafe...) But anyways! I hope you liked it and normally I don't ask, but reviews would be seriously appreciated on this story because I'm not feeling super confident about it and I just really want to know if I did a good job or not T.T I hope you all have a lovely day though, and I'll probably be back in another million years with more trash. Bye~