It was a bright, crisp fall morning when the super soldier moaned and tugged the blanket back partially over his face, concealing himself from the bright light invading his room. All you could see was a mess of brown shaggy hair peaking out just at the top of the blanket.

It was a Sunday. He had planned to sleep. Sunday's were his "Sleep Days," as he liked to call them.

But that was not in the cards for one Steven Grant Rogers.

Bucky groaned when three short precise knocks against his door disturbed him. Maybe if I pretend to sleep and not answer he'll go away, he moaned internally to himself.

Nope.

More knocks came. "Buck, are you up yet?" Steve's voice called out.

Bucky groaned dramatically and rolled further into the bed, limbs splayed out carelessly.

Sighing, Steve opened the door to Bucky's room. "It's a nice day Buck, I was hoping you'd like to maybe head out somewhere today?"

"It's my Sleep Day," a muffled voice whined from under the covers, making Steve chuckle.

"Pal, you've been sleeping way too much lately, some sunlight will do you some good," he replied lightly, yet his smile dimmed a little.

Both Steve and Bucky knew that he was right. While Shuri did help remove the corrupt HYDRA programming in his head, he still wasn't quite himself yet, in the sense that he had a lot of healing to do mentally. Bucky still harboured a lot of guilt from his Winter Soldier days. Sleep didn't come easy to him; at night was when the nightmares came. It was always the same - past victims of The Winter Soldier coming back to haunt him, asking him "Why?", and then his body would betray him and he'd has to watch helplessly as his limbs reenacted those killings all over again. It was as of he was a mere puppet, watching with no way to fight back against the strings pulling him along, making him do horrible things.

He woke up screaming a lot, drenched in sweat and shaking like a leaf. That was the first sign that alerted his best friend that he wasn't doing okay.

"Bucky?" Steve called out gently, leaning against the doorframe.

Breathing deeply, Bucky threw back the covers, weary blue eyes looking back at America's Golden Boy. "Alright, I'm up. What did you have in mind today?"

"You'll see when we get there," Steve offered a smile, happy to see that his friend was at least trying to stay coherent for his sake. "I'll leave you to get dressed, we leave in 10."

He closed the door behind him. As soon as he did, Bucky let out another groan, falling back onto the bed spread-eagled. That punk is so fucking persistent.

At first, he thought Steve's idea was to go for a jog or something, which was the norm for him. But instead, Steve took Bucky to a little coffee shop down in Brooklyn. It was small and quiet, only a few people inside and minding their own business. No one spared a glance at the two super soldiers as they entered the shop. Steve ordered each of them some coffees and the pair sat down at a booth by the window.

"I didn't think you were the coffee shop type of guy, man," Bucky joked, still feeling groggy but trying to wake himself up.

"Well, I figured you wouldn't be in the mood for a run, and I've come in here enough to know that you'd probably like the place."

A minute of silence between the two passed. Steve awkwardly cleared his throat before speaking plainly, "I'm worried about you, Buck."

Bucky's gaze was trained out the window, he felt too shameful to meet his friend's concerned eyes. "I know."

Steve sighed, a hand reaching up to scratch his beard, a nervous tick he'd developed since growing it. "You know, T'Challa mentioned that if you ever changed your mind about staying in Wakanda -"

"He's done enough for me already," Bucky's gaze flicked back to Steve, then down to his new vibranium arm, just visible from under his sleeve and glove.

Despite the circumstances that lead to Bucky Barnes entering Wakanda in the first place, he adored the country. It was the most beautiful place he'd ever been to in his eyes, and the technology! He remembered how back in the day he would be impressed with the prototype flying cars at the Stark Expo back in the 40's, but Wakanda's tech never failed to fascinate him. He remembered watching Shuri work on his new arm and asking tons of questions about what she was doing, how it all worked... looking back he probably annoying the poor girl to death with his non-stop questionnaire, but if he did, she never showed any sign of it.

He stayed on a small farm for a while while Shuri was working on de-programming the HYDRA crap in his brain, tending to goats. He liked it. Bucky had never considered the farm life before, but after Wakanda, he quite liked it a lot. It was peaceful, and rewarding.

Bucky broke out of his reminiscing and looked back at Steve. "I need to get back into the swings of things again, learn how to live like a regular person," he began, but before he could continue, a barista brought over their coffees.

Steve kindly thanked the woman who brought over their order - one Americano coffee for him, and one Irish Black for Bucky. He figured the hint of Whiskey would be the kick to his system he needs to feel a bit more awake. Taking a long sip of his own drink, Steve gestured with his hand for Bucky to continue.

Bucky held his drink in his metal hand; it was piping hot, but he couldn't feel the heat. Perks of having a metal limb, he thought to himself. "I... I-I know that I haven't been doing so hot lately. And, I know that that worries you and the rest of the team. But," he took a deep breath before speaking again. "I want to try. I want to leave HYDRA behind me, as much as I possibly can. I want to be able to function like any other guy but..."

"But the functioning part is hard?" Steve finished the sentence for him, seeing where he was going.

Bucky nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, it's hard. I barely have the motivation to get up and do things, Steve."

He paused from talking to take a swig from his coffee, humming pleasantly in surprise at the taste. Steve took this moment to speak. "You know... after I came out of the ice, I found it hard to readjust to things." Now it was Steve not making eye contact, instead looking out the window. "Things had changed so much... everyone I knew - you, Peggy, basically every person I'd ever remotely bonded with during the war - was gone. The world was different, and that wasn't easy for me."

"So how'd ya cope?" asked Bucky, now listening intently.

Steve tilted his head tot he side, thinking a little first. "Honestly?" he made eye contact with his friend once again, who waited patiently for him to continue. "It's the little things that helped me get by. I didn't do very well with taking care of myself at first. But I started small, making myself get out of bed by eight in the morning, brushing my teeth and then going for a run or hitting a punching bag."

Bucky's brows furrowed, he felt confused. "Just... brushing your teeth and exercise?"

Steve shrugged, giving him a small smile. "Sometimes it's the little things that help you get outta bed, you know?"

With that. the two drank their coffees in silence, leaving Bucky to mull over what Steve had said and Steve deep in his own thoughts. He hoped their little coffee shop banter would give Bucky something to think about, or at least that he gave some semblance of good advice to his best friend.

They've always said to each other "I'm with you to the end of the line," and that was exactly what Steve Rogers planned to do, even if he had to drag Bucky Barnes out of his own darkness.