Bucky wasn't entirely sure what had woken him up. He jerked awake so often, from nightmares or anxiety or any other reason, that it had stopped bothering him.
Sighing, he tried to settle back behind Steve, eyes falling shut.
A moment later, he was wide awake again.
The noise coming from somewhere outside their room had been loud, and Bucky had no idea how Steve had carried on sleeping.
Steve's super hearing was even better than his own, but damn that man could sleep through the end of the world. Nearly had once.
Bucky carefully pushed the covers off of him, feet planting against the floor as he got up.
Another crash from outside had him rushing to the door, pulling it open and slipping out into the hall.
He hadn't woken his partner, because he doubted whoever was making those noises was some kind of big threat.
All of those in the Tower had problems, and sometimes needing to throw things or slamming something too hard and watching it break, were just small ways to deal with some of those problems.
Bucky assumed someone was upset or angry, and taking it out on the kitchen, where Bucky could tell the noises came from, was how they were coping.
Either that or Natasha had slipped into the past again, and if that was the case, it was best Steve was nowhere near it.
When Bucky got to the kitchen, he realised very quickly that it hadn't actually been either of the options he'd been thinking.
Instead he was greeted by the sight of Bruce, hunkered down, back pressed to their snack cupboard.
His arms were wrapped up and over his head and Bucky saw as he took a step closer, that his skin was rippling green. The sleeves of his pyjama shirt were steadily ripping into pieces.
Ah shit.
"Bruce-" the man called softly, watching as green, panic filled eyes flashed up to his own gaze.
Bruce had come a long way from the first time they had met. Most times, turning into The Hulk was now different. Bruce and the big guy were both in control, it was never just Hulk taking the wheel.
It meant that when Bruce changed, it wasn't the sheer drop that brought pain and damage anymore.
Nine times out of ten.
The other one consisted of times like these; panic changes.
Those times Bruce changed, things could go very wrong.
They had the green room a couple of levels below, far better than anything Shield had ever come up with because Bruce had designed it himself, with Tony's help.
It was best to get Bruce down there, as the man had even told then all himself.
"Okay, you're okay." Bucky stepped over to him, crouching low. "We're gonna get you down the room, yeah?"
Bruce was shuddering, breaths coming in ragged little gasps, his body moving and changing just enough to really start to worry Bucky.
Bruce couldn't speak so the other did what he did best; took charge to try and help him.
He wasn't sure they'd even be able to make it to the elevator, never mind down to the green room.
They all knew the lullaby, though Tony was far better at it than the rest of them, but they still had yet to find a proper way to get Bruce to calm down /before/ he changed, not after.
Running out of options, as Bruce hovered around the edges of a panic change, Bucky made a decision.
He tugged the other man forward, metal fingers wrapped around the ripped material of his shirt.
Bucky sat behind him, pulling Bruce back against his chest.
His metal arm wrapped around the man's chest from behind.
It was some sort of half hug, half just making sure Bruce stayed there. He was struggling against the change, not struggling against Bucky so he took that as a good sign.
With his arm locked around Bruce, Bucky used the other to brush back the other man's hair.
His rested his chin on a heaving shoulder, murmuring lowly. "You're okay. I don't know what's going on, or what happened, but you are absolutely okay. Take a deep breath and go through that meditation thing you're always trying to get me to try. Just breathe and relax, I've got you. You won't hurt me, you won't hurt anyone. You tell Hulk that now is not a good time. You are in control now. You can do this." He was rambling, he knew that, but he hoped it would force Bruce to listen to him, and to focus on his words instead of whatever was happening inside his head.
Bruce still struggled for breath, skin rippling with green but his body was no longer straining and growing.
"That's it, deep breaths." He splayed the fingers of his metal hand across Bruce's chest. "Just follow my breathing, nice and slow. You are in control, Bruce. You can control when and where you change, and that is not right now." His voice was soft and warm, his spare hand still brushing through messy curls.
They sat like that for a long time, Bucky repeating his words until it was some sort of mantra and eventually, Bruce began to echo the words too.
The green had faded until just Bruce's eyes shone with it. His breathing was slower and less ragged and he was sinking back against Bucky. He still trembled, but he knew that was plain exhaustion.
"Do you want to go lay down?" Bucky asked softly, almost an hour after coming to the kitchen.
"It's best if I go downstairs, just in case." Bruce murmured, voice tired and thick with sleep.
"Okay, if you're sure. Do you want Tony to come down and meet you?" Bucky very slowly released the man in his grip and Bruce shuffled forward a little.
"Yes, please." Bruce said quietly, using the counter to help pull him up to his feet, still shaky.
"Jarvis?" Bucky directed this at the ceiling, still a little confused about the voice that came from there.
"Mister Stark will meet you downstairs."
Bucky got up to his feet, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "Do you want some help getting down there?"
"No, thank you. You've helped enough." Bruce met his gaze, wringing his hands.
Bucky shrugged and offered a crooked smile. "I'm glad I could help."
Bruce smiled tiredly, nodding his head as he moved towards the elevator.
...
Bucky stood in the kitchen for a moment, smile pulling at his lips.
The sun was starting to rise as he walked back to their room.
Once there, he climbed into bed, his metal hand splaying across his own chest.
He lay like that for a moment, feeling the cool metal seep into his shirt and skin.
Smile still on his face, he rolled over behind Steve, that same arm draping over his boyfriends chest.
The fingers spread across the chest below his hand and Steve hummed in his sleep.
The smile still remained as he watched his fingers lightly rub at the material of Steve's sleep shirt.
It was with that smile still on his face, that he fell asleep.