On bad days Steve and Bucky stay in the apartment behind closed doors that are tightly locked and secured, with curtains drawn to hide them both and most importantly keep the outside world at bay.
All cellphones and electronic devices are turned off or muted. Everything that's too new is hidden away as much as possible or ignored.
On days like this Steve does his best to be there but not too much and obviously not too little.
If its a quiet one Bucky sits and stares and doesn't react because God hes just so tired and the world is too different. Everything is exhausting and he doesn't know how to handle it so he does what any overused tool would do and he breaks. He simply stops working.
There are no questions asked and nothing is asked of him. Steve does whatever he can to make his friend comfortable and most importantly calm because if he doesn't things can go in a direction that leads to raw panic and a rabid terror that engulfs the ex assassins entire being, filling his veins with burning hot anxiety and the air with a weight that becomes so overwhelming it feels as if the world is coming down on him ( and it has).
Oh how it has.
When this happens Steve is always right there, kneeling down in front of him next to the couch, the bed, or even that corner between the bedroom and the kitchen, holding his friends face, in his now too large hands, pleading with him and whispering much needed assurances of "Please Bucky, please! I'm here, breath for me. Breathe. You're okay. Come back to me."
And somehow ,eventually, the soldiers shallow rapid fire breaths begin to deepen and slow. His shoulders fall from their hunched state, muscles feeling over used or broken.
Everything is broken.
They stay like that for a while until Bucky's eyes begin to slide shut, exhaustion creeping its way in to the now silent fog that constantly plagues his decimated mind. When his head begins to tilt to the side and hes no longer the one holding it up Steve knows its over.
The captain brushes the loose hair out of his friends face with careful fingers that linger for just a second (or maybe more..). Then gently rouses the almost dosing man with soft touches to the face and quiet instructions, telling him to sit back or lay down because everything is okay and he'll be right there.
No. Matter. What.
With the welcome knowledge that the storm has passed and everything has settled Steve sits next to the man he grew up with as if they'd never left each other and still lived in a small rundown apartment back in Brooklyn.
The thought helps lighten the load on the captains shoulders but the sound of his best friends subdued breathing next to him lessens the heavy weight on his heart.
And thats that! Once again, thank you for reading!
Its almost 5 am and I am exhausted
Two more of these (hopefully longer..) on the way!