Bucky had never been a sound sleeper, nor a morning person like Steve was. Still, he could count the times he'd stayed in bed until after sunrise since he'd become a Wakandan refugee on the fingers of his remaining flesh hand. Structuring every day in tune with nature made for a nice, healthy routine as much as it was a necessity.

Maintaining the farm required him to always get up at first light unless he was prepared to work through the burning heat of the afternoon sun - which in all honesty, he usually wasn't.

This particular morning though, Bucky couldn't bring himself to get out of bed. He was so exhausted from crying and breaking down in his boyfriend's arms the other night that his limbs still weighed him down like lead.

He couldn't believe he'd stooped this low. What kind of pathetic loser would risk a relationship with Steve fucking Rogers himself just to make a point? Well... Bucky Barnes' idiot ass apparently. He should have ignored whatever stupid shit Mandlakhe had come up with and been the bigger person. Why was it so hard to keep himself in check lately? Was it that he couldn't function without Steve anymore or that they still hadn't found Ward and the others?

Probably both. Bucky dreamed of the day he'd finally slit their throats, perversely longing for the gurgling sounds their dying bodies would make far more than he worked on his recovery. Maybe that was the real issue. He didn't want to think about himself as a victim any longer but he also knew that the rape had affected him deeply. Enough to want to hurt anyone who dared to question him about it.

Damn Mandlakhe and his entire clan to hell... He didn't want to see that guard's face ever again and if that meant he couldn't leave the hut, so be it. No one was going to drag him out by the hair anymore - which was exactly what Hydra would have done if the asset had tried to stay in bed for a second longer than necessary. Not that it would have gotten the idea.

Steve wasn't happy with his plan, but since Bucky had taken to calling his self-imposed depression and shame-filled seclusion a "mental health day" which was a real, valid thing according to Steve's therapist aka. rogue Avengers BFF Sam Wilson, he respected it.

Steve (sweet, kind, understanding, "boyfriend in a crisis mode" Steve) took over and handled everything. He even sent the kids away at Bucky's request, when they showed up in front of their home, expecting him to join for playtime as usual.

Today, they wanted to practice stick-ball. Bucky hated stick-ball. He couldn't remember why he'd taught it to them in the first place.

Steve had never been a skilled liar, so the excuse he came up with wasn't creative but it got the job done. He told them that Bucky was coming down with the flu (the fucking flu of all things) and was on strict bed rest because of it. When he addressed the children and requested a few days of reprieve for the poor White Wolf, they didn't question his story and pledged to pray for Bucky's speedy recovery instead.

Unnecessary, but heartwarming. Bucky couldn't appreciate the sentiment.

While his boyfriend had gotten more comfortable with bending the truth a little over the years, Bucky still hated that he felt obligated to do it because he was such a fucking mess. Telling people that Bucky had a common cold or something was as close to the truth as he could handle right now, although he felt that he should do better.

When the children finally left, Bucky sighed and buried his face in the pillows, wishing he could suffocate himself in them. It seemed so obvious that he didn't deserve the love and trust they put in him despite everything that had happened. He could never live up to their expectations, like a walking, breathing disappointment.

All he'd proven so far was that he was batshit insane.

At noon, when it finally became too hot under the covers to wallow in self-pity, Bucky dragged his sorry ass out of bed in slow motion, feeling his one hundred and six years all at once.

Sweat glued the coarse linen fabric to his back like a hairshirt. It seemed weirdly fitting for a repenting sinner like him. The air was stale and getting worse with every labored breath, but he managed to put some marula tea on the stove regardless. Something to occupy his hands and mind.

Steve came in just as the kettle started boiling and joined his partner at the stove. The space suddenly began to feel oddly cramped for two people inside.

Steve cleared his throat awkwardly.

"So, Nat's probably gonna be here soon. I'll tell her to get a hotel room in the city and stay overnight. We wanna brief you when you're feeling a little more— a little better, I guess," he announced. "What do you think?"

Bucky shrugged. He sure as hell wasn't fit for company. Especially the kind of company that was going to drag him through specific memories of his gang rape, kicking and screaming if need be, to get closer to the truth. Natasha wouldn't back down. Even if Steve and her had found a lead, he wasn't kidding himself into believing she wouldn't want to know every little thing. It was just practical to know all about his assailants and how they operated as a team from a tactical point of view, but he couldn't do it. Not yet.

"How are you feeling?" Steve asked with forced casualness, keeping his voice terribly gentle and low.

Bucky snorted. "What do you think? Does anything about me scream 'healthy and stable' to you?"

Steve nodded, resigned. "Ok. So it's a bad day then. Got it. I'll let you rest."

He put his arms around Bucky from behind, pressing a small kiss to his partner's exposed neck.

Bucky shivered. He felt goosebumps rising on his skin where Steve's lips had just grazed him. The familiar touch now made his skin crawl and how was that for another letdown? The mere thought that Bucky's mind was set on destroying all the report the two to them had built together as a couple, made him want to cry. He couldn't let himself show it though, not without seeming even more pathetic to Steve than he already was, so he squirmed away from the tight embrace.

"I'm fucking peachy," he uttered into his steaming teacup without looking up and took a zip that burned his tongue.

Steve sighed. "Sure... Sorry, I asked. Well, I'll be outside if you need me. But listen... Buck?"

"Hm?"

"I'd really like to talk about some other things later. When you're ready."

Bucky froze, the cup halfway to his mouth. "Things?"

"Yeah."

"What... What kind of things?" Bucky asked with squirming dread.

Maybe this was it. Steve had had a whole night to contemplate his future with the crazy cheating mess that was Bucky Barnes ghost and maybe he just couldn't take it anymore. The sad, pitiful fits of depression and the sudden irrational rage directed at him all the time... Steve's decision made sense in a way, but Bucky couldn't help but think that killing him would have been kinder.

"Like I said when you're ready. I'll just go and—"

"No, no, wait! Please!"

Bucky put the cup down with a rattling, loud clank that betrayed how badly his hand was shaking.

Steve turned around, confused. "...Ok?"

"Please. I, I feel— I'll try harder ok?"

"Um..." Steve offered. "Try what exactly?"

"Like, I know I'm not great at sharing, but I should try harder to tell you... I—I feel... Crushed. Yeah, crushed. Like someone just planted the damn Chrysler building on my back and I just can't— I can't get back up from under it. Steve... I—"

"No..." Steve's expression changed from confusion to regret. "No no no, I'm sorry, Buck! I'm sorry... It's not like that. I didn't mean to scare you. You don't have to tell me those things if you're not comfortable."

Bucky exhaled shakily, a wave of momentary relief washing over him, but he forced himself to keep going. Just because he'd been hurt, didn't mean he couldn't make an effort. Steve was obviously worried and rightfully so.

"But... What I did yesterday, what I— Steve, I feel so ashamed about that. All of it. You deserve better, I know that. My recent behavior, it's been... Ever since they— Well, since they fucking raped me again, it's like— like I—"

He threw his hand up in the air in frustration.

"God damn it! You won't get it, Steve! I can try but there's no metaphor that fits here, ok? No one fucking gets what it feels like... When it happens... Why I didn't fight. No one gets that! And why didn't I— I mean, I couldn't but that's not the fucking point! I'm telling you unless you've been there, I mean really been there yourself, there's no way you could know how I feel."

Steve looked at him with deep sorrow. "Bucky, I understand that. I'm just trying to be here for you. What you did for these kids was brave, real brave, and I'm sorry for saying it wasn't at first but—"

"But what? All I'm saying is, it's not so black and white," Bucky cut him short, eyes wild and defensive, "I know you must be so over me saying that but it's not. It's no wonder people don't understand! If they finally stopped painting me as a martyr because of this, then... Good for them. I get it, Steve! I'm an asshole underneath it all! I get that. I've done things. Horrible things... So many of them... But you still—"

"I want you to see a doctor," Steve said out of the blue, cutting him short.

"What?"

"I really think you need help."

Bucky bristled in exasperation.

"No... Come on, Steve. We've been over this. Talking to some stupid psychiatrist is not gonna help me. I know I've got issues, real issues but I tried that. I just— I don't trust them. I can't. You know that. All they want is talk about what happened to me and Steve, I just can't! I can't!"

"I know. I still wish you would change your mind on that because it could actually help you but, Buck... I wasn't talking about a doctor for your head."

"Oh." Bucky nodded weakly. "Oh… Ok? What for then?"

"What you said to Mandlakhe... About doing you a favor with the spear—"

You can even bring that spear of yours and fuck me open with it...

Guy like me? Who knows... Maybe I'll like that, too...

Bucky felt his own face grow uncomfortably hot.

"No, I was just... Trying to get to him, Steve. I didn't mean anything by it."

"Yes, you did. Cut the bullshit, ok? I was there." Steve looked at him with steel in his eyes before his gaze turned warm and kind again. "Something's wrong and it still hurts, right? The scarring? Hasn't healed all the way yet?"

Bucky seriously considered denying it for a few seconds but looking back into Steve's knowing eyes, he gave in eventually and sighed.

Why lie to the only person who could be stubborn enough to try and keep loving him despite his faults? Surely, he shouldn't give Steve another reason to distrust him.

"Sometimes. Yeah."

"Then you should get that checked out. Just in case. We both know you've got the serum, too, but you're not indestructible."

Bucky snorted. "Nope."

Steve crossed his arms, almost like he had to physically restrain himself not to hug him which to Bucky, seemed a ridiculous impulse to have. "I know you're struggling right now but I need you to hear me: I love you. I still want you and I'm not gonna leave for anything. I want everything you can give me, whatever it is, and that's never gonna change."

Bucky dropped his eyes and nodded his head at the ground. He wasn't sure if he could say it back without letting his own self-hatred and disbelief shine through.

"Yeah…"

"If it makes your skin crawl, I won't touch you anymore until you tell me I can, but I don't think we should make any assumptions on that when you're having a bad day."

"I wasn't making assumptions..."

Bucky's involuntary reply sounded petulant even to his own ears and Steve must have thought that, too, because he gave him a small smile in return.

"Course not. All I'm saying is, we've had good reasons not to go all the way since. Your body and mind are simply not ready for that, and that's ok—"

Bucky laughed unhappily.

"Is it though? What if I'm too damaged to do anything with you anymore? Like long term? What happens then? It's not like I've been in the mood lately anyhow..."

"You don't have to be up for it when you're not, and you're certainly not 'damaged'. That's not how I see it. Even if you didn't want to sleep with me anymore indefinitely. Even if you were a little— changed... You know, down there, anatomically speaking... I'll always love you the same, no matter what."

"You would, wouldn't you?" Bucky made himself look Steve in the eyes and held his gaze.

"You know I would."

"Promise me?" Bucky whispered, feeling strangely vulnerable. "Promise you'll stay?"

At that moment, Buck knew that he couldn't bear to hear Steve confirm the alternative. Steve knew it, too, so he did his best to make it look sincere, never breaking eye contact.

"I promise you. We're in this together. Always. We'll find our own way."

Bucky ignored the tears that were slipping free and started running down his face uncontrollably instead of wiping them away. He didn't have to hide. Not from Steve. Not because of this.

"Sounds like a plan," he croaked out.

"Yeah. So, a doctor. Right?" Steve reminded him of his initial request with a small smile. Like a dog with a bone.

"I would never make you go through anything you're not 100% comfortable with but I don't wanna hurt you by accident either. If we get back to doing any bedroom stuff—"

Bucky smirked quietly because, in the end, Steve was such a fucking nerd. 'Bedroom stuff'… Really, punk…

"— and knowing us we probably will - we'll adjust our sex accordingly. There's plenty of stuff I can still do without hurting you when you're ready for it but I need to know you're cleared physically. It's not enough to take sex off the menu and act like it didn't happen."

Bucky sighed deeply, defeated.

"Fine, but I'm not going back to the King's lab. I know Shuri's got the equipment for proper scans and everything but she blames herself for what happened to me already. She's just an innocent girl... She doesn't need to see that."

Bucky took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. His gaze slipped somewhere far beyond Steve's reach again as if the mere thought of exposing that vulnerable part of himself was hurting. "It's too real up close."

Steve nodded in understanding.

He remembered that there was another, secondary reason, too, but he didn't feel the need to bring it up right now: The sterile environment of the lab. It reminded Bucky too much of his time in captivity, even on his good days. Something about the bright lights and white walls always brought him right back there, writhing helplessly on their table. In that dark place, the one with the memories the Winter Soldier had safely locked away in his mind, strange hands were still touching his body. Clinical, invasive, relentless. Hurting, poking, prodding, and violating him. He couldn't handle any more of that right now.

When Shuri had removed the trigger words in his head with the terrifying power to bring out the asset and control him, they had knocked him out with a tranquilizer fit to sedate an elephant. It put him to sleep right before he was moved to the operating room.

Bucky had been shaking with nerves that day, throwing up a few times before they even got started. The only thing that had helped, was trusting Steve to be right there with him.

Steve had taken a day off from the superhero business to hold his partner's hand through it all with the patience of a saint. In the end, he even administered the drug himself, shooting that strange blue stuff into Bucky's veins with a fresh needle because he didn't trust anyone else to do it without pain. They waited up together until it hit.

"Remember that time in 8th grade when you made me sniff paint solvents on a dare?" Steve joked with a devious twinkle in his eyes once Bucky's speech started to slur.

"No? You see, I was high as a kite when I got home. Payback's a real bitch, isn't it..."

"Alright then," present Steve said, "just as long as you find someone."

"I'll ask around," Bucky agreed. "I swear. Shila might even be able to refer me to a local."

"That's great," Steve retorted, pulling out a chair at their dinner table and sinking down on it in reverse. This time, he wasn't going to leave unless Bucky asked him to.

He didn't. Steve watched him work at the stove over the backrest.

Natasha could wait a little longer.

"No really," Steve said. "I don't know what your plans are, but I'm telling you, we're not giving up just yet..."

The weather was perfect of course which annoyed her tremendously.

According to Stark's unsolicited opinion, people who chose to reside in Wakanda had to be crazy because it was hotter than the devil's asshole all year around.

This time (as rare as that sort of thing was), Natasha was actually inclined to agree with him.

The sun was burning something fierce when she stepped off the quinjet, wiping the sweat from her brow before the running mixture of acid and dissolved hair dye could sting her eyes.

Her head was shining brightly, blown-out strands the color of an icy blond now, which almost overshadowed her huge cat-eye sunglasses in lovely cherry red. The loose white babydoll that she'd picked out for the occasion fluttered in the wind and hopefully added to her Monroe-esque vibe. Natasha had always been one for the classics.

Her journey had been pleasant for the most part. It hadn't surprised her that Steve couldn't share the coordinates to get into the country with her for safety reasons. It didn't stop her from taking the tourist route though.

The rest of the process had also changed a lot since the last time she'd visited. Where she could have formerly entered without a hitch, there was a password and an identity check at the border now. The guards were thorough enough to impress her, although one of the women had averted her eyes for a short moment when she lifted her skirt so they could search and pat her down properly.

Maybe Natasha shouldn't have winked so lewdly just to get a rise but ignoring distractions was what professionals were for. She could have her fun before things got more serious.

Speaking of serious, Natasha wondered if Steve had broken the good news to his partner yet. They weren't exactly at the finishing line, but the progress they had made in Nigeria these past few weeks had brought them several steps closer to finding Bucky's rapists.

She thought she knew her boys well enough by now to prepare for lots and lots of manly tears and emotional turmoil. That was why she hadn't told them about her imminent arrival.

If Steve had known she was coming so soon, he would have tried to handle her in typical Captain America fashion, the same way he always did when he wanted to protect Bucky from the world. Natasha understood the impulse but unfortunately, it wasn't going to get the desired results fast enough to catch up with the bad guys before they flew the nest.

Bucky would have to forgive her harsh words later. He wasn't going to love being interrogated by the Black Widow (not at all) but hopefully, ripping off the dicks of Ward and his little squid ward circle in the end was enough to make up for it…