"Harper?" Bucky called gently through her closed bedroom door. Getting into her apartment wasn't a problem; buzzing into any of the apartments the tricks frequented gave you instant access to the building (a fact that disturbed him deeply in regards to Harper's safety) and then Harper had a spare key to her apartment hidden behind the dingy bronze "7" on her door. It was peeling away from the door just enough that the key could just barely be slipped in and out of the space between the number and the peeling wooden surface beneath it. But it was silent when he walked into the unit, and Harper was nowhere to be seen.

There was no reply from within her room, so he gently cracked the door open. Harper was sleeping deeply atop her comforter, her large cat curled up against her side. She was sleeping on her back, which was incredibly unusual for her. He assumed the cluster side of her face must have still been tender when she fell asleep. She wore high waisted berry colored leggings and a black sports bra, leaving a few inches of skin bare between the leggings and the bra. He wanted little more than to crawl into bed with her, but given their recent tensions he refrained, backing out of her room silently.

After straightening up the kitchen and cleaning the litter box, Bucky stared at the bathroom vanity with trepidation. He frowned, debating whether or not he was violating Harper's privacy if he did what he was considering. He heard familiar footsteps softly pad towards him.

"James?"

He turned, immediately noting how tired she still looked. "Hey, doll. How're you doing?"

"I'm okay," she sighed. Then she asked, "Why are you standing in my bathroom?"

"I was wondering if you had enough medication to get through another cycle," he admitted.

"Why didn't you check?"

"Honestly, doll?" He breathed a sigh. "I'm really tryin' to walk on eggshells."

Harper's expression was unreadable even as she leveled him with her gaze. After a long pause, she simply turned and exited the room. Bucky followed her into the kitchen, asking, "Harper?"

"What do you want me to say, James?" she asked, the exhaustion audible in her voice and visibly weighing down her shoulders. "That you don't need to be so careful around me? That you should have felt free to look in my vanity and taken inventory of my meds?"

"I don't know, just… something," he responded, sounding as lost as he felt. "Harper, what's going on between us? Are we going to be okay?"

"Can we maybe not do this right now?"

Harper reached above her to pull a glass down from a cabinet. With an unsteady hand, she pulled a full pitcher of water from the fridge. Blue eyes watched her forearm begin to tremble and gently took the pitcher from her weak grasp. He filled the glass and replaced the pitcher in the fridge. The brunette muttered her thanks, but he hardly noticed.

"Can we please do this now?" he implored quietly.

Harper nodded slowly, and he was once again following at her heels. She led him to the couch, where they took up perches on opposite ends from each other. After taking several sips off her glass, the young woman asked, "What do you want to hear from me?"

"It's not about getting you to tell me what I want to hear," Bucky frowned. "Doll, I know I really messed up. Seriously, I do. And I can't express to you how sorry I am for hurting you. You've been distant and cold toward me ever since. I don't resent that; I think it's fair. I'm just worried that you aren't really okay, that our relationship is irreparable."

"You don't 'resent' that?" she asked testily. "You have no place to."

Bucky groaned and raked his fingers through his hair. "See, Harper, this is what I mean! Everything I say or do might set you off."

Harper shook her head, anger visible on her face now. "'Set me off?' James, seriously?"

"Darlin'," he pleaded, "please. How do I make this better? Can I make this better?"

He watched her scrub at her face before she looked back up at him with a drawn expression, her eyes half-lidded and exhausted. She muttered, "I've been lashing out because I've been trying to create distance. Not because I don't want to be with you, but because I realized how vulnerable I've let myself become with you. I'm having some issues, and I'm not sure how to work through them."

"Harper, I know trust and vulnerability are hard for you. It was a few months of knowing you before I ever saw past the face you wear to everyone else. And I'm so sorry that I said something that has hurt you, has jeopardized my knowing you like that moving forward. But I don't know what I can do at this point."

She drew her knees up to her chest, letting her forehead drop to them as her arms wound around her shins. Her voice was muffled, but he could hear her nonetheless. "I don't know, either. I feel like I've been launched back into my unresolved shit with Josh, plus this, and I don't know…"

"What do you mean?"

"The guy from college, Josh. I really, really liked him. I opened up way too quickly. We went out a bunch of times, and were almost constantly talking. Every day started with a good morning text and ended with a text good night."

"So when things went south, you felt like you had let yourself be too vulnerable with him," Bucky filled in the blanks. "Because it really hurt you."

"Yeah," she nodded into her knees. "Him turning around and immediately going out with my friend made me feel so disposable, worthless. Like… really undesirable. It fucked up my self-confidence, and it took a long time to fix that. And now I feel like I didn't learn anything from that. I didn't want to go forward in my life and let anyone have the power to shake my self-view.

"But in the past few weeks of trying to rebuild some of my walls with you, I've realized that being vulnerable isn't the problem. I couldn't have fallen in love with you without both of us opening up. The problem is that the way I see myself is fragile, my confidence is an act. There's nothing genuine about the person I've convinced myself I am, there's no true value I see in myself. If I was actually as self-assured as I pretend to be, then I wouldn't have been so hurt by Josh backing out, or by our fight. And now another fucking cluster cycle is here to beat me while I'm down."

Her shoulders began to shake with sobs. Bucky reached for her, wrapping her up in his arms and gently pulling her into his lap. His cybernetic arm wrapped around her hips, securing her against him as his flesh hand rubbed comfortingly up and down her back. He whispered into her hair, "You're okay, doll. I love you so much."

He felt her fingers grip tightly at the fabric of his shirt at his shoulder blades. Through her tears, she managed, "I'm sorry I've been such a bitch."

"No, no, no," Bucky said quickly. "Don't, Harper. I don't feel that way at all. I know that this is another problem caused by poor communication on my part."

"Hang on," she muttered, pulling away. Without another word, she stood, extracting herself from his hold, and disappearing to the bathroom.

The brunette was gone for some time, and Bucky was left to nervously scrub at his knees. He was just about to get up and check on her when the door to the bathroom clicked open. Harper walked back out, eyes and face dry, though a bit pink and puffy. Her hair was brushed through, and she looked overall much more stable. She sat in front of him, leaving little space between them.

Harper met his gaze and said, "I shouldn't have pushed you away, and I should have talked to you when I was figuring out what was really going on with me. I'm sorry."

"I didn't make it easy for you to confide in me. I hurt you in a way I know was especially painful. My words were poorly chosen, and I was projecting my values onto you in a way that was unfair. I don't blame you at all for any of this."

"You asked if our relationship is irreparable. It's not," she shook her head, eyes glistening. "Not to me."

"Not to me, either," he agreed. "What can I do, Harper?"

The young woman didn't reply, but surprised him when suddenly her lips were on his. Her hands clenched on his shoulders, and her legs straddled his hips. Bright blue eyes widened before falling shut, lips feverishly returning her desperate kiss. His arms came around her again, holding her close. Her tongue parted the seam of his lips as she took the lead. It was new for him; she hadn't ever been the aggressor in their heated moments, nor had any dame he'd been with before the War. He couldn't help but groan, blood already rushing south.

Harper pressed in closer, her chest flattening against his. He was painfully aware that only a simple sports bra shielded her from his gaze, his hands. She nipped and tugged at his lower lip, their shallow breaths mingling between them. Her hands roamed his chest, mapping out the broad planes of hard muscle. His hands dipped lower, palming and squeezing her bottom. She began rocking her core against his groin and he squeezed harder, encouraging her to keep moving. He was rapidly growing harder, and the nearly inaudible noises she hissed against his lips indicated that she was turned on, too.

As suddenly as it all started, it ended. Harper let out a small yelp and pulled away as if shocked. Bucky gaped at her, horrified and confused, until he saw her clutch at her right eye and his brain put together what was happening.

"Oh, god, not again," she begged, body automatically curling in around herself protectively.

"Do you want your medication?" Bucky asked urgently, already standing.

"No, I used it earlier," she managed through grit teeth. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

And so another cluster began. Fifty-seven minutes of Harper pacing, sobbing, punching at her temple as Bucky watched on helplessly. He didn't think this was something he'd ever get used to. When it was finally over, Harper sat beside him wordlessly, immediately slumping over and resting heavily against him. The former soldier gathered her up in his arms, returning her to her bedroom. She settled on her bed, much as he had seen her when he had first arrived. This time, however, he joined her.

James: How you holding up, darlin'?

Harper: Second cluster just ended. Fucking tired.

James: I'm just leaving the docks now. Are you hungry? Do you need anything?"

Harper: No, thank you though. I'm too tired to even think about eating.

James: I'll be over in a half hour, okay?

Harper: I'm not going to be very good company.

James: See you in 28 minutes. Love you, doll.

Harper: If you're sure. See you soon. Love you, too.

Bucky grinned down at his phone before pocketing it and setting down the snow dusted street. Talking things out the previous weekend had been really helpful. He wished that their reconciling hadn't happened between cluster headaches, but he was truly relieved that they were no longer fighting. It had him in such a good mood, the cold barely got to him on his travels to get dinner and make his way to Harper's apartment.

True to his word, he was knocking on her door a half hour later.

Harper: Assuming that's you at the door, you can come in. Can't get up, nor do I want to.

Bucky frowned, and let himself in with the spare key. Blue eyes swept the space, finding the dark haired woman lying on the couch. Sprawled across her torso was a twenty two pound mass of fur. The old feline was cheek to cheek with the exhausted brunette, a small smile on his aged muzzle. Even Bucky, leery as he still was about the cat, couldn't help but notice how absolutely adorable the entire scene was.

"See?" Harper asked. "Can't get up."

Her fingers were gently stroking the cat's furry back, moving in a slow, methodical massage. The feline puffed a content sigh, nuzzling his cheek harder against Harper's.

"I'm glad you have him," Bucky admitted, smiling at the pair fondly.

"Me too. He's my best boy," she grinned.

"Should I feel offended?" the former soldier chuckled, sitting down with his back against the couch. He set the brown paper bag he was carrying on the coffee table.

"Of course not," Harper replied easily. "Just know that I loved him first."

Bucky laughed and Harper sent him a small, warm smile. Big green eyes shot open to glare at him, the old feline clearly offended that Bucky was intruding on his moment with his human. The brunet sighed and said, "I think he still hates me."

"He's just asserting his place on the Hierarchy of Harper."

Bucky raised a brow at the young woman. "Oh?"

"Hey, don't forget that it was because of him that we met."

The former soldier paused at that. He hadn't really thought about the cat in that way. But Harper was right; his entire life had changed all because that jealous orange menace had gotten loose one particular night. Otherwise, Harper never would have been outside to run into Bucky on his nightly prowl. Chuckling lightly, he admitted, "Perhaps I should be nicer to him."

"Of course you should," Harper agreed through a yawn. "Aslan deserves only the best."

"Where did you get that name?" Bucky asked.

"You've never read the books or watched the movie? The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe?" When Bucky shook his head in the negative, she said, "We need to change that very soon."

"I assume there's a character named Aslan that you like?"

"Aslan is a lion, and the true creator and king of the world of Narnia. He's powerful, and caring, and just… genuinely good. He's a protector who fights for peace, but allows the Narnians to learn to fight for peace on their own, too. He's a wise, kind character, and when I saw this beautiful orange Maine Coon, I could only think of how much he looks like a little lion. It was a perfect fit."

The cat had laid his head down as Harper was speaking, tucking his face into her neck and gripping her t-shirt in his front claws. Another fond smile turned Bucky's lips. "It is fitting."

James: How're you feeling today, babe?

Harper: Babe? Who are you and what did you do with my adorable boyfriend?

James: I thought maybe my petnames for you were odd or old-fashioned?

Harper: They're sweet and unique. "Babe" is for the youths and the fuckboys.

James: Well, I certainly don't want to sound like a fuckboy. How're you feeling today, doll?"

Harper: Same as ever. I'm really tired and dreading the prospect of having to wash my hair.

James: I was thinking I could come over with dinner?

Harper: You don't have to, hun.

James: Falafel and salad?

Harper: You really don't need to feel obligated, James. I'll be fine.

James: Okay, be over in about 45.

Harper: I seriously love you.

James: Love you, too, darlin.

A little later than he had planned, Bucky let himself into Harper's apartment, as was now routine. He glanced to the living space and did a double take. "Hey, doll. You washed your hair already."

She gave him a tired smile and explained, "I don't have it in me to let you see how much self-neglect I'm capable of during a cluster cycle. Save that shit for if we ever move in together and it's impossible to hide."

Bucky's chest was awash with warmth at the idea that she'd consider moving in with him in the future. They very rarely spoke of the future after she asked him if he'd go back to the States with her, and he sometimes wondered what she wanted. He knew there were a lot of things he'd have to figure out when the time came to make some real, concrete decisions about their life together, but it was touching to know that she really saw a future with him when he'd spent so long not knowing if he even had a future off the ice.

"I was planning to convince you to let me draw you a bath and wash your hair," he frowned. She wore black leggings and a sweatshirt, and her hair was pulled up in a towel knotted atop her head.

She raised a brow at him. "Okay, Captain Romance. Your ship sailed."

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Har har. Hang on a second." He disappeared to her bathroom, retrieved her hairbrush, and returned to the living room. Sitting beside the brunette on the couch, he directed, "Turn please."

"James, c'mon," Harper sighed. "I'm tired."

"I know. So let me do this for you."

"I'm not an invalid."

"I know you aren't, darlin'," Bucky promised, using all of his patience to remain calm when all he wanted was for her to just let him take care of her. "And I know that you're capable and independent. But letting me help a little doesn't take that from you. You aren't alone, you know."

Harper leveled him with an intense look, searching his face for something. Finally, she sighed and leaned in, placing a gentle peck on his lips. Drawing back, she pulled the towel from her head and shifted in her seat so that her back was to him. She said nothing, but she didn't have to. Bucky grinned and placed a kiss to the crown of her head, unaffected by the wet hair. Slowly, methodically, he began gently working the brush through her hair. He reveled in the smell of her shampoo, in the feeling of the silky strands slipping between his fingers. She made no complaint, and he watched her shoulders relax as he worked. Finally, he set the brush down and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back into his chest. She turned to gaze up at him with half-lidded, exhausted eyes before tucking her face beneath his chin. He held her just a little tighter, happy to have her safely in his arms before pain took her once again.

A/N: All of the gratitude for the continued support and feedback. I'm really glad to hear that Harper is an at least mildly interesting character. I put a pretty healthy dose of myself in her, and Aslan is totally based off my own handsome feline of a different, much less cool name. But that's rather beside the point. Thanks again for the support!