Summary: Steve learns to deal with patience.

"Nat, it's been a week," Clint whispered.

"I realize that, honey. But what exactly do you expect me to do?!" Natasha hissed through gritted teeth.

"Well I don't know! You're his best friend I barely even know the guy!" Clint hissed back.

Bucky had been holed up on their couch for almost a week, staring at the TV with a lifeless look in his eyes. Natasha winced at the sight of him. She remembered walking through the doors of the VA hospital, watching Bucky curled up on the marble floor shaking and gasping for breath. The other counselors tried to calm him down, but nothing seemed to work. It wasn't until James heard her voice that his breathing started to become more even. The VA counselors suggested she take him to the hospital, but once they got inside the car James immediately shook his head and curled in on himself. So the only thing Natasha could think of was to bring him here.

But he hadn't moved from his position on the couch except to grab food and take care of his daily needs. Natasha figured it was a just small thing, that he would get over it and be back on his feet in no time. Soon 2 days turned into 5 days which eventually turned into a whole week. Enough was enough. He needed to go back to his own life.

"James," Natasha called out softly as she carefully sat on the other end of the sofa.

He peeked an eye out from underneath his blankets.

"James," she tried again, "look it's… it's been a week. I'm not trying to be mean or anything, but you really do need to go back to your own place. I'm sure Phil and Sam are worried about you."

Bucky only grunted in response.

"James. Come on, talk to me. You've barely said anything all week. Please?" Natasha pleaded. It really did hurt her heart to see him like this. When she witnessed her first panic attack, she was helpless. She didn't know what to do. Now she was pretty much an expert at coaxing him out of his induced state. She knew how to handle his bad days, and she was the only person he really trusted.

Bucky slowly pulled himself up into a sitting position, his hair sticking up in all sorts of weird angles. Natasha laughed a little and tried patting down his hair. "I think you need to go for a haircut soon," she murmured. Bucky hummed and rolled his head around, trying to get rid of the crick in his neck.

"Come on," she said as she stood up from the couch. She put out her hand.

"Is this Natasha? Natasha Romanoff?" Steve asked slowly into the phone.

"Yeah who's this?" Her voice echoed back.

"This is Steve? Steve Rogers?"

"Oh! That Steve! Steve the Subway Guy."

He still blushed at the nickname.

"So, Steve the Subway Guy, what can I do for you?"

"Um, it's Bucky," he said quietly.

Natasha's face immediately turned serious, all humor gone from her voice. "What's wrong with James?"

She heard Subway Guy suck in a breath. "He had a panic attack. But he's fine now though!" He quickly reassured. "But I don't know what I'm doing. I know I'm a war veteran and have also had my fair share but I don't… I don't know what to do when it comes to another person. I'm not good at this. And you're his best friend, so I thought maybe you'd know." He paused before adding, "I'm sorry. I'm really useless aren't I?"

"No, no you aren't," she sighed. "I only know what I'm doing because I've been with him longer. Trust me, the first time I witnessed it I couldn't even think straight. I had to call my own boyfriend because I thought I was gonna have a panic attack."

Steve huffed a laugh at her attempt to joke.

"Seriously though, you aren't useless. It's going to take some getting used to. You of all people should know that."

"I know. But that still doesn't mean I know what I'm doing. I managed to calm him down, but he's just lying on his couch staring at the TV. He won't talk to me, no matter what I do."

"You need to be patient with him. Talk to him slowly, don't try to startle him. Just keep offering things and making small talk. It'll make him open up a bit more."

Steve nodded, jotting this all down. "Thank you, I—" He sucked in another breath "—Thank you."

"Sure, no problem. If anything comes up call me."

"I will, thank you again. Really."

Steve slowly put the phone on the counter and made his way over to the bundle that was Bucky.

"Hey, Bucky?"

No response.

"Do you want something to drink maybe? Like some tea? Or maybe coffee from downstairs?"

Still no response.

"I'll just make some tea then," Steve sighed in resignation. As he went to look for some teabags in the cupboards, an idea came to him. He closed to cupboard door and went into one of the bedrooms. All the while Bucky watched as he brought out blankets and pillows into the living room. When he was done, he put his hands on hips with a determined look on his face.

"Come on, get up," Steve commanded.

Bucky made a noise at the back of his throat and burrowed his head into his blankets.

He heard footsteps approach the couch, then pause. Suddenly the light was blinding him and he squinted up to find Steve holding back his blankets.

"HEY! Give those back ya punk!" Bucky made a grabbing motion while covering his face, but Steve only moved farther back. He had this triumphant smile on his face like he just won a prize. That prize being Bucky finally talking to him.

"Great, you're alive! Now get your butt up and help me with the rest of these blankets."

"Why?" Bucky groaned.

"Because we're going to make a fort," Steve explained like it was obvious.

"Why?"

"Because… it'll be fun."

"But why—"

Steve smacked his head. "Just help me, jerk."

Bucky growled but finally relented. It took them about an hour, but they finally finished. There were blankets draped over the couch and coffee table, criss-crossing each other in every way possible. They also moved the TV closer so it could act as another pillar. And there were pillows EVERYWHERE. They had also put Bucky's laptop inside so they could have a movie marathon together.

And Bucky had to admit, it actually looked pretty nice. He hadn't made a blanket fort since he and his sisters were kids. Steve came up next to him with two steaming cups of what smelled like chocolate.

"Hot cocoa," Bucky noticed, giving a pointed look at the mugs.

"I figured it fit the atmosphere better," Steve said as he handed one to Bucky.

Bucky sniffed and sighed at the warmth in his hands. He felt a soft jab at his side and scowled up at Steve.

"Are you gonna go in or what?" Steve jerked his head to the fort.

Bucky rolled his eyes and bent down, making his way inside.