TW: Suicidal Thoughts, References to Depression, Mental Health Issues
Hi! So this fic is set the morning after my other story, Regression. However, if you haven't read it and you don't want to, you should be just fine! In the end notes, I'll even put a quick summary of what happened.
As a warning, the first story was written prior to the finale. This story follows that pattern, but it's mostly canon-compliant.
Thank you for reading. I appreciate you.
Sam woke up with a heavy weight situated against his chest. With confusion in his eyes, he looked down, only to come face-to-face with a sleeping Bucky Barnes.
Last night, after their deep conversation about feelings and honesty, they were a bit too wound up to sleep right away. To fill up the tired silence, Bucky ended up turning on the TV. They'd stayed on the couch together, a short distance between them as they watched some program neither of them recognized.
Right before Sam dozed off, Bucky had still been sitting near the opposite end of the couch.
Sometime during their sleep, they had to have changed positions. He couldn't imagine Bucky consciously initiating their close contact, although Sam couldn't completely rule out the possibility. Bucky tended to be wildly unpredictable.
To Sam's surprise, his arms were lightly wrapped around the other's frame. He couldn't blame his friend for that one. Sam should've been bothered, but he was oddly comfortable. Bucky's late-night confession was still at the forefront of his mind, so holding him and knowing he was safe was tremendously comforting.
He still couldn't believe Bucky wanted to... Sam couldn't even finish the thought. He was just so thankful he didn't go through with it. They'd only been on friendly terms for a good few months, but he didn't want to live in a world that Bucky wasn't in. His bright presence kept the sun shining.
Sam originally planned to leave sometime in the afternoon, but the moment he walked in, he knew he wouldn't be sticking to it. Bucky wasn't the type of person that admitted to needing help, but Sam knew the signs. He needed someone. If Bucky let him, Sam would be that person.
Without moving, he looked around the apartment. It was in bad shape. If Bucky was okay with it, he would happily clean everything up for him. Being surrounded by dirty laundry and rotting garbage couldn't be doing him any good.
If he was being honest with himself, he'd do anything to help Buck through what he was dealing with. When Sam told him he cared, he meant it wholeheartedly.
Bucky suddenly shifted. Sam made sure his arms weren't restricting him.
"Hey, if you're awake, it's just me," Sam quietly reminded him. He didn't want Bucky to open his eyes and be completely thrown off by what he saw. Sam was trying to lower his stress, not add to it.
A familiar hand lightly patted his chest. "I'm awake," Bucky grumbled. With a soft yawn, he went to sit up. After moving maybe an inch away from Sam's chest, he sank back down.
A bit concerned, Sam quickly asked "You good?"
After a deep breath, Bucky nodded. "Yeah. Just... tired."
With a small frown, Sam used one of his hands to gently rub Buck's back. "Go back to sleep," he whispered.
In minutes, Bucky's breathing evened out again. Sam let him rest.
After allowing Bucky to use him as a pillow for another two hours, Sam had carefully maneuvered his way off the couch.
He was currently leaning against the fridge, staring at the bags of food he'd gotten delivered. Sam wanted to make them something for lunch, but Buck's fridge didn't have anything salvageable in it. Instead of ordering one meal, he figured groceries were a smarter bet. While he waited for everything to arrive, he went ahead and threw out anything past its expiration date.
Sam didn't want to do anything major without asking for permission, but he needed the space. If Bucky got mad, then so be it. Sam would accept his wrath and move on.
He was just about to start restocking the fridge when he heard movement coming from the living room. After setting down the carton of juice he'd been holding, Sam made his way over to the couch.
As expected, Bucky was awake, sitting up with his eyes squeezed shut. His clothes were drenched in sweat, and his chest was rising and falling way too fast.
It wasn't the first time Sam had witnessed him waking up from a nightmare. Still, he looked more miserable than usual. Sam couldn't help but frown in concern.
"Buck?" He spoke quietly, not wanting to alarm him.
Bucky's eyes flew open, his panicked gaze instantly finding Sam's. His misery was so obvious, and all Sam wanted to do was fix it somehow.
After clearing his throat, Bucky dropped his head. "Hey." Sam could barely hear him.
Wanting to get closer (but not too close), Sam took a seat in front of the TV. "Another nightmare?" He already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from Buck.
Bucky didn't speak, but he nodded. Sam didn't know everything about his past, but he knew enough. His nightmares had to be brutal. When they'd briefly talked about them before, Bucky told him they were a problem nearly every night. He couldn't imagine dealing with that so frequently.
Knowing he was probably still overwhelmed, Sam let Bucky take a moment. While he waited, he got another good look at him.
He hadn't noticed it last night, but Buck's hair looked like it hadn't been washed in days. Considering his current state of mind, Sam couldn't blame him for letting the task go. Simple things were always a challenge when the world looked grey.
With Bucky's hair in mind, a questionable idea popped in his head. It involved them getting a little too up close and personal, but Sam was used to stepping over the line. He doubted Bucky would go along with it, but he figured it couldn't hurt to ask. He wanted to help his partner in any way that he could.
Sam gave Bucky a little more time before speaking up.
"On a scale of one to ten, how weird would it be if I washed your hair?" He kept his tone light. The less serious he was, the easier it would be for Bucky to say yes.
Bucky finally looked up, his discomfort turning into bewilderment.
Even if he said no, Sam was glad he brought it up. At least the topic change shifted Bucky's thoughts.
"You... want to wash my hair?" Bucky questioned. "It's that bad, huh?"
Even though yes, it was that bad, Sam instantly waved him off. He wasn't trying to make him feel bad about it. "No, not at all. Sarah packed me some of her hair products, and I just thought you'd appreciate them more than I would."
It wasn't a complete lie. Inside his bag, he had two small vials of flowery shampoo and conditioner. When he told Sarah who he was seeing, she insisted he take them with him. Something about Buck stealing her soap last time he was there.
The mention of his sister made Buck crack a smile. Sam's lips mimicked his.
"I would," Buck answered quietly. "But I can do it myself." His voice didn't carry even a pinch of enthusiasm. He just sounded tired.
Sam pretended to look taken back, his hand flying to his chest as he raised his eyebrows. "Her products are expensive. I don't think she'd want me to just hand them off."
"Right..." Buck retorted. He understood what Sam was doing, but he didn't seem to be bothered by it. If anything, Sam swore he looked relieved. "Fine. Do what you want."
Before Bucky could change his mind, Sam stood back up. It was a weird thing to be excited about, but nothing about their lives was normal. Moving to his bag, he took out the bottles and brought them into the bathroom.
When he examined the tiny room, he was slightly thrown off by the sight of a tub. Having Bucky sit in it would be a lot easier than having him lean over the sink. Sam wasn't sure if that crossed another line or not, but if Bucky didn't mind, neither did he.
They'd seen each other through a lot worse.
After setting the soaps near the bath, Sam walked back into the main room. Bucky was still sitting on the couch, eyes focused on his fumbling hands.
For a one hundred something-year-old ex-assassin, he looked damn small.
"Okay, I have another proposition for you," Sam announced as he returned to the couch.
Bucky glanced up, already appearing skeptical. "Yeah? What is it?"
Dancing around the topic wouldn't get them anywhere, so he took the obvious approach. "You have a bath."
Before Bucky understood, he gazed at Sam like he was out of his mind. When it clicked, the look only deepened.
"Look, you don't have to." Sam didn't want to make him uncomfortable. If it was too much, he had no problem with using the sink. "But you can keep your boxers on, man. I just think it would be a lot easier than craning your neck under a faucet."
The explanation let Bucky relax a little, but he still looked uncertain. With an unsure smile of his own, Sam reached out his hand. "Do you trust me?"
They were probably leaning into boyfriend territory, but Sam didn't care. They'd never followed the rules anyway. When it came to Bucky, the only boundaries Sam thought about were his.
With an exaggerated sigh, Bucky brought his hand up and clasped Sam's. "Yeah, I trust you," he quipped.
Sam couldn't believe that a few months ago, they could barely stand each other.
After gently pulling Bucky to his feet, Sam led him into the bathroom. He directed him to sit on the toilet lid, then kneeled by the bathtub.
"Wait— You wanna set the temperature?" Sam proposed, pointing to the dial.
Staring at the faucet, Bucky shook his head. "I'm good. Just don't burn me."
It wasn't the best guideline, but Sam would make it work. After turning on the water, he tested a few different temperatures. Eventually, he got one that wasn't too hot or cold. He closed the drain before standing up again.
"Do you want help with...?" Lifting his hand, he gestured to Bucky's clothes.
Bucky glanced down, his attention falling to his shirt. "Yeah," he breathed out.
Sam didn't hesitate to walk over and start helping him. It wasn't something that needed to be a big deal. Friends helped friends get through shit. If Sam was the one struggling, Bucky would no doubt do the same.
Well, maybe not the exact same, but still.
Once Bucky's shirt was discarded, Sam began working on removing his pants.
"Okay, wait," Bucky whispered.
Sam immediately stopped, lifting his hands and scooting back. Only, Bucky didn't seem to be happy with his response. He almost looked hurt by it, and Sam couldn't figure out why.
Did he not expect wait to mean something?
Bucky cleared his throat. "I'm okay with this," he quietly asserted. "But are you?"
Sam wasn't expecting the question, but he couldn't say it wasn't appreciated. He appreciated their whole relationship, really. It was built on trust and respecting limits. He couldn't say that about all his friendships.
"Of course I'm okay with it," Sam insisted. "I'm the one who asked, right?"
After briefly thinking his response over, Bucky nodded. With his eyes on him, Sam slowly moved back. Bucky nodded again before Sam finished taking off his pants.
Sam patted his leg, then checked on the bath. He'd already asked way too many questions, but he still had more. "How deep?"
Bucky let out a dramatic groan, tilting his head up just slightly. "Really?"
"Don't you have any preferences?" Sam probed. The question left his mouth tasting bitter. It wasn't the right thing to ask.
He watched as Bucky's shoulders sank. "I used to," he murmured.
Bringing up the past wasn't Sam's intention. With a tiny frown playing on his lips, he turned off the water. It wasn't too deep, but it would at least cover Bucky's legs.
Moving back over to Bucky, Sam held his hand out again. "You'll find new ones. Come on."
Recovery wasn't a cakewalk, but he had faith Bucky would get through it. The guy was one of the strongest people he'd ever met, and that meant a lot considering he knew the Avengers. Even though he'd been tortured for years, Bucky still wanted to be good. Most people would've given up on that.
With a small grin, Bucky got up and followed Sam to the filled bath. Within a few seconds, he was sitting in it, with Sam perched on the edge.
Just a few weeks ago, if someone told him he'd be helping Bucky wash his hair, Sam would've laughed in their face. He couldn't believe their relationship grew as much as it did.
What would've happened if it didn't? As far as Sam could tell, all Bucky had right now was him. He would've been completely alone.
Considering what they just talked about, he was so thankful they built something. Even if they never ended up liking each other, Sam still would've been devastated if Bucky did something. The guy was an asshole, but HYDRA fucked with his head for seventy years. He had the right to be a little pissed off.
"Hold on," Sam remarked. He stood up, giving Bucky a warm smile. "I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere."
As he walked out, he heard Buck sarcastically exclaim "I wouldn't dream of it!" It actually got a laugh out of Sam. Had he always been that funny?
Once he got to the kitchen, he started searching for Bucky's cups. Most of the cabinets were empty. Maybe Sam could convince him to go shopping with him once he felt a little better. Having a few possessions of his own might boost his spirits.
Right before he gave up, Sam found a plastic cup. Perfect.
When Sam stepped back into the bathroom, Bucky glanced up at him. Sam smiled again, holding up his discovery. "Gotta get your hair wet somehow. Close your eyes."
Buck gave a tiny nod, shutting his eyes just as Sam sat down. After filling the cup up with water, Sam carefully got his partner's hair wet. He repeated the process until he was sure it was soaked.
Reaching beside him, Sam grabbed the small bottle of labeled shampoo. "You know, if you want, we could get you some glassware. Could be useful." It was nothing more than a suggestion. Bucky was free to make his own choices, and Sam wouldn't judge him for any of them.
"Maybe," Buck answered. It wasn't a yes, but it wasn't a no either. Sam saw it as a mini win. Bucky deserved to have an apartment (a home) that felt like his.
After squeezing some of the soap into his hand, he began working it into Bucky's hair.
The entire time, Bucky seemed to be on edge. Like he was expecting things to go sour at any second. Sam could almost physically see him creating backup plans in his head.
"If you need me to stop—"
Bucky interrupted him with a shaky breath. "If you wanted to, you could kill me."
Sam paused, his fingers still in Bucky's hair. "I don't want to. I will never want to."
"I know," Bucky breathed out. "I know, but a small part of me doesn't believe it."
Bucky told him that somewhere inside him, the Winter Soldier still took up some space. It worried Sam, but only because he knew how much weight it brought to Bucky's shoulders.
"Have you ever tried talking to him?" Sam wouldn't say his name. They both knew who he was talking about. He finished washing Bucky's hair, then briefly dunked his hands in the water.
"No," Bucky spat. The sudden bitterness in his voice surprised them both.
Sam didn't let it get to him. After covering Bucky's eyes with one hand, he used the other to rinse Bucky's hair off with the cup. "Do you want my advice?" He was already preparing what he wanted to say, but he wasn't going to explain his point unless Bucky wanted to hear it.
Bucky didn't respond. Sam took it as a no. He didn't mind. He just focused on clearing the soap away, making sure it didn't get near Bucky's eyes.
Once the shampoo was gone, Sam picked up the conditioner. As he flipped the cap open, he realized a flood of unclear emotions had clouded Bucky's features. Sam immediately set the container down, turning all his attention towards his partner.
"Buck? What is it?" Sam quietly inquired.
After a few shaky breaths, Buck twisted his head to face Sam again. "You... blocked my eyes."
Sam raised his eyebrows, freely showing his confusion. "Yeah?" He couldn't understand why that action would cause his sudden discomfort. "The soap would've gotten in them, man."
As Bucky connected the dots, his eyes watered. He tilted his head a little, trying to explain the significance without using words.
For most of his life, HYDRA treated him like a machine. They didn't care about any of his wants or needs.
Sam did. Of course, he did. He considered Bucky an integral part of his family.
Much like Bucky, Sam didn't know what to say. Instead, he reached one of his hands out, letting it rest on Bucky's shoulder.
He looked like he was ready to burst into tears, but Bucky's feelings didn't spill out. Sam couldn't say he was surprised, but it was heartbreaking to see him so bent on keeping everything in.
When Bucky glanced down, Sam tentatively moved his hand to his cheek. After he was sure Bucky was okay with the contact, Sam leaned in and pressed a slow, delicate kiss to his temple.
Sam was prepared to be pushed away, but the move never came. He even swore Bucky leaned into him.
Once Sam pulled away, he took the conditioner again. When it came to Bucky, he still had so many questions. Before the Winter Soldier, had he been an affectionate guy? If he was looking for that kind of comfort...
Kissing Bucky's head felt right. Sam would be more than happy to do it again. Other things too.
"What was the advice?" Bucky suddenly interrupted, voice low.
Sam stopped again, his lips curving upwards. "Try talking to him. In your head or out loud. See what he has to say." Would it lead to any revelations? Maybe, maybe not. Sam just thought it would be worth a try. He doubted ignoring the voice altogether would lead to any healing.
His words of wisdom brought more tension to Bucky's body, but he nodded anyway. "I'll think about it," he answered gruffly.
"It's all up to you," Sam gently reminded him. Every proposition he offered was optional. Bucky would always get the final say.
Silence fell over them as Sam applied the conditioner. The scent wasn't exactly Sam's taste, but it did suit Bucky. Sam couldn't explain how; it just did.
After letting the conditioner sit for a couple of minutes, Sam went ahead and rinsed it out. Better.
"Okay, you're all good," Sam announced. "You ready to get out?"
He was already blindly aiming his hand towards the towel, but Bucky surprised him. "Since I'm here, I should probably wash... everything else. I'll meet you out there."
With a smile, Sam stood up. "Sure thing, Buck." It was definitely a step in the right direction, but he didn't want to make it a big deal. "Yell if you need somethin'."
Once he stepped out, he shut the bathroom door. While Bucky finished up, he could finally start restocking the fridge. A lot of the food he bought was perishable.
By the time Bucky wandered into the kitchen, Sam was more than halfway done. The shelves were already loaded with things Sam hoped Bucky liked. He wasn't sure if his partner enjoyed cooking or not, but maybe they could whip out some meals before he left. That way, Bucky wouldn't have to worry about it for a few days.
"What's all this?" Bucky questioned, peeking into one of the remaining bags.
"Groceries," Sam hummed. "Had them delivered while you were asleep." He momentarily glanced at Buck before returning to his work.
Sam wasn't expecting Bucky to help, but he jumped right in. He reorganized some of the items that were in the fridge, then began putting away what was left.
When Bucky grabbed the last thing – a bag of fresh red grapes – he kept them and brought them to the sink. Sam watched as he held the bag under the faucet, thoroughly washing them before setting them on the counter.
His exhaustion was still clear, but showering did improve his appearance. Hopefully, he felt a little better too.
Reaching his hand into the bag, Bucky plucked one of the grapes off the stem. He eyed it for a moment before popping it into his mouth. As soon as it was gone, he took another.
The energy surrounding him shifted again, but Sam couldn't figure out the difference. It was weird to see him so vulnerable. Most of the time, Bucky did his best to keep to himself. Other than in high-stress situations, he was good at it.
Either Bucky really trusted Sam, or he was running out of strength.
He took another grape, taking his time with eating it.
Food had to be such a strange experience for him too. It wasn't like HYDRA took proper care of him. God— The guy had been through so much. Every time Sam saw him, he seemed to come to another horrendous conclusion.
"I'm proud of you," Sam suddenly blurted out. It probably wasn't the right time or place, but it still rang true. He wasn't sure if he'd ever been so proud of another person.
Bucky choked. Sam immediately sped over as Bucky brought his hand to his chest, coughing to clear his throat. He held his hand out, waiting until it passed before opening his mouth again.
"You're what?" he whispered in disbelief.
Bucky's shock threw Sam off. His statement shouldn't have come off as a surprise. He figured Bucky already knew.
"Hey," Sam murmured. Bucky was looking towards the sink, so Sam raised his hands and brought them to his partner's face. Once he was sure Bucky was okay with the touches, he gently turned his head.
Their eyes locked on each other's. It was too intimate for two people who were supposedly just friends, but that thought didn't make Sam back down. If Bucky was comfortable, so was he.
"I'm so proud of you," Sam repeated softly, but confidently. He meant what he said with every part of him. Starring at the man in front of him, all Sam could feel was love and pride.
Bucky's eyes widened, but he didn't glance away. He looked confused and almost desperate, like he needed Sam's words to be true.
Keeping his hands on Bucky's cheeks, Sam continued to look at him. "You're in the process of healing, Buck." It was a little messy, sure, but recovery wasn't supposed to be easy.
"The first step is always the hardest, and you're way past that," Sam reminded him.
Buck's bottom lip trembled. In an effort to stop the motion, he bit down.
He was a super soldier, but Sam didn't pay that fact any attention. Shifting one of his thumbs, he brought it to the corner of Bucky's mouth and tapped.
Bucky looked at him like he was unreal, but he let go of his lip.
"There you go," Sam praised. "Recovering from trauma is one of the most difficult things a person can go through, and look at you. You're still here. You're still trying. For that, I couldn't be prouder. You should be proud too."
A shaky hand shot up and grabbed Sam's wrist. Sam gave Bucky an encouraging smile.
"Sam—" Bucky warned, tears yet again pooling in his eyes.
"It's okay," Sam whispered. "You're gonna be okay."
Just like that, Sam watched Bucky lose the rest of his restraint. As soon as his tears spilled over, Bucky took a tiny step closer. It was his way of asking for comfort. Without hesitation, Sam tugged him into his arms.
At that moment, he decided Buck's crying was one of the best and worst things he'd ever heard. He was so relieved that Bucky trusted him enough to let his guard down, but it just confirmed how much pain he was in. Even with that trust, Bucky wouldn't have fallen if he wasn't already deeply hurting.
"I'm sorry," Bucky eventually croaked, sounding far too wrecked.
Sam shook his head, rubbing slow circles into his back. "Don't be," he breathed out. From his side, Bucky didn't owe any apologies. He was trying his best in a tough and extreme position.
When Bucky eventually let go, Sam did too. He brought his hand back to his partner's face, using his thumb to delicately wipe away some of his tears. His pain still shined in his eyes, but Sam could see relief too.
Bucky offered a watery smile. Sam decided that one day, he was going to kiss him properly. Today, he just brought his lips to Bucky's forehead, letting them linger there for just a moment before stepping back.
"You keep eating those grapes. I'm going to try and find us a recipe," Sam decided.
With a sniffle and a short nod, Bucky turned back towards the bag of fruit. Sam returned to the fridge, peering inside as he took out his phone.
"Sam?" Bucky interjected.
Sam glanced away from his device, bringing his attention back to Bucky. "Yeah?"
Bucky attempted another smile. It looked a lot more sincere than the first. "Thank you for coming," he murmured.
A large smile spread across Sam's cheeks. "Thanks for opening your door."
Regression: After Bucky ignores Sam's texts for several weeks, Sam decides to make a visit to New York. After some prying, Buck admits he isn't doing well. More than once, he stood at the top of his building and thought about jumping. He didn't tell Sam before because he didn't want to say too much. Sam reminds Bucky that he wants to be there for him, and that nothing he says will drive him away. With both of them wanting to stay around each other, Sam decides to stay for the night.
Thanks again for reading. I'm hoping to add more stories to this series.