My index finger tapped frantically on my thigh, as I sat in the waiting room. My stomach was churning and I thought I had broken out in cold sweat. I needed to get my nerves under control.

After Mourning Dusk, sleeping became even harder. The nightmares just wouldn't seem to end. After one day of feeling like I was going to pass out in the fields, I finally went to Christin about my troubles. I told him about the panic attack, and everything else that had been going on. He had reacted just as Arrow had said, offering his support and asking if I wanted to try therapy. I said I'd give it a chance, so he scheduled a session the family therapist.

Though, now that I was sitting in the waiting room of her office, I was kind of regretting that decision.

Christin reached out and patted my back, "You're tenser than a too tight bow string. Calm down kid, there's nothing to worry about. She doesn't bite."

"I know," I said, "It's just…"

"Unknown territory?"

"Yeah."

"Don't worry, it will be easier once it starts."

I nodded hoping he was right, and thankful he came with me. Though I did wish Christin could come into the session with me. Sadly, he couldn't as it went against patient privacy regulations. I also wanted Arrow to be here for some reason. We had grown closer since Mourning Dusk, and she kind of understood what I was going through, as least understood it better than anyone else I knew. However, she was currently deployed. I was going to wait to ask Christin until she got back, but after learning she wouldn't be back until Christmas (this mission being to a much farther location, and much higher risk), and three-days of no sleep, I couldn't wait any longer.

"James Barnes?" A woman called.

I swallowed and got up to follow her. She led me to room. It was mostly empty, a couch on one side and a chair with a side table on the other. A small window and clock in the middle of the wallpaper that depicted the image of cartoony swamp. Weird, but at least it wasn't a laboratory.

"Dr. Camaron will be in, in a few minutes," the woman said, "Feel free to make yourself comfortable," She stepped out the room.

The couch was closest to the door, so I just sat there. The tapping of my index resumed. Waiting by myself was worse, and the clock wasn't helping. The door started to open, and I looked towards it. A woman, maybe late fifties, greying chestnut hair tied up in tight bun that was held up with what looked like two pencils. She wore a long purple dress, with capped sleeves and a black belt, but it didn't hide the tail tip poking up from under the skirt hem. A matching mask on her face and cheetah like spotting on her forehead.

She turned to me and gave a comforting smile, no fangs shockingly, "Hello James."

"Uhm, its Bucky," I stuttered, "My name is Bucky."

"Okay Bucky," She walked over to the other chair and took a seat, "I am Dr. Camaron, I'll be your therapist for today."

"Today?" I asked.

"Well, there are others working here, and if you don't think I'm helping you, you always have the option to try someone else."

"You wouldn't be offended by that?"

"No, of course not. I would mind at all, as long as the patient is healing in a healthy way," she paused, "You feeling nervous?"

"Maybe," I knew better then to lie to her, Arrow could tell when I was lying and Dr. Camaron worked with Arrow.

"That's fine. It's you're first time in a therapy session. Feeling nervous is completely normal. Do you have any questions?"

"Uhm…Well, what do we really do here?"

"What we're doing right now, just talk. I might ask you few questions but that's it."

I nodded, "I don't see how that helps."

"Sometimes you can't, sometimes you can," She paused, "So, how have things been for you? I understand you've been through a lot recently."

I nodded, "Well, I have been blown up, lost an arm and slept for a few decades. All in the past six months. Probably, not that much to what you usually see."

Dr. Camaron shook her head, "No, it's not. That sounds like a lot. Now how have you been coping with this change?"

"Uhm…I'm not sure what you mean…I've been working with Christin, I mean Clan leader Striker, he's given me somethings to keep me occupied."

"So, you've just been working to distract yourself?"

"Well…maybe…I didn't think of it that way."

"This might have been a subconscious action in response to your trauma. That means you weren't aware of it."

"I probably could've been handling this better."

"No, couldn't have."

"What?"

"Bucky, I've look over your files, the closest thing I can compare your situation to is, long term coma patients, and when they wake up, even after only a few days of being under, it can be extremely difficult to readjust. You've been under for seventy years. Considering that, you are doing astounding."

"Maybe."

"Don't maybe. You're doing your best. Tell me that."

"What?"

"Just do it."

"Okay…Uhm…I'm doing my best."

"Do it again, but with more confidence."

I swallowed, "I'm doing my best."

"Yes, you are. Now tell me how have you been sleeping?"

"Not well," I couldn't look her in the eyes.

"Nightmares?"

I swallowed and nodded.

"What are they about?"

"The accident mostly. Sometimes I see Steve…uhm…my older brother…still stuck in ice."

"I am well aware of your relationship with Captain America. You don't need to hide it from me."

I nodded; my tongue felt stuck.

"What do you do when you can't sleep?"

"Well, Black Sheep, my licolo, he's little and sometimes, he crawls into my bed in the middle of the night. So, I can't really do much, if he's snuggling next to me and I don't want to wake him up."

"So, you just sit there in the dark?"

I nodded.

"Anything you notice, while you just sit there?"

"I think I keep track Black Sheep's breaths. Just try to forget whatever I was dreaming about."

"What about when Black Sheep's not there?"

"I don't know. I think I just try not to look at anything. I just wrap myself tighter in the blanks, and close my eyes."

"To hide from the dark or from being alone?"

"It's not the dark. In the dark people can't see you."

"Why wouldn't you want to be seen?"

I couldn't talk.

"Are you embarrassed that you have nightmares? Or do you just think you'll be a burden on people if you tell them?"

I swallowed. I didn't know. It was just never something that was supposed to be shared. If you were scared, you kept it to yourself. You pulled up your bootstraps and just pushed through. It hurt but that's just how it was.

Dr. Camaron hummed, "Why don't we switch gears? Could you tell me a little bit about your childhood?"

I gnawed on my lower lip, "Well, there was nothing too special about it. I had a Mom, a Dad, and a little sister. That's it."

"What was your mom like?"

"She was nice. I don't really remember much, she died when I was eight."

"Did her death affect you in anyway?"

"Well, I think I was mad for a while, for a long time."

"In what way?"

"I started getting in fights at school."

"How did your dad react to that?"

"As well as you can expect. He knew I missed mom, but he told me I needed to keep a brave face for Rebecca. He made me promise I'd do that, that I'd be strong and happy."

"So, you wore a smile, like a mask, to hide your pain?"

I nodded, "I guess, I didn't a good job though. I still got into fights."

"Do you think your dad understood why it was difficult for you?"

"Sometimes, but I let him down so many times," I sniffed, "That last thing he said to me before he died was, 'I'm disappointed in you Bucky, you really let me down'. He said we'd talk about what happened, when he got home but…"

"He never came home, did he?"

"No, there was an accident on base and…"

She nodded, "What happened to you and your sister?"

"Becca was sent to boarding school, and I stayed on base."

"You were separated. How were you after that?"

"I was scared, lonely and still angry."

"Did you tell anyone?"

"No, I just…hid behind the smile."

"Did you start fights again?"

I nodded, "That and other things."

"Other things?"

"I started, selling smokes and other things to soldiers on base. Doing things a kid shouldn't be doing. I ended up getting in trouble with the police."

Dr. Camaron hummed, "Okay, we can stop. Bucky, I'm going to tell you this. What you just told me, was a story about a little boy, who was taught hide his pain with a smile, and never actually learned to work through it. You were in pain, and you didn't know how to deal with it. You made bad decisions, but you also had no one to show you a better way. Just a lost scared little boy who had no one to lean on, and that wasn't your fault."

I looked at her, and suddenly felt like a weight was off of me. It wasn't everything that I felt hanging on my neck, but it felt better.

"Thank you for sharing this. I know that this was difficult for you, but you've done amazing for a first session. You still have a long way to go, and if you want, I'll help you through it. So, that maybe one day your smile isn't just a mask."

"You'd do that?"

"This is my job. Helping people process what has happened to them, and how to heal from it. Right now, that mask you're wearing is merely a band aid on a bullet wound. It's not healing your pain; it's just covering it up. I can help you heal if want me to."

I nodded.


Things slowly got easier over the next month and a half. The nightmares weren't as intense and some nights I managed to sleep all the way through. Dr. Camaron was helping so much. I honestly didn't know how much just having someone to help talk me through my problems, would do for me. She was currently trying to find better coping mechanisms for me, narrowing down options that would work for me. Like a support animal, or possibly writing in journals.

Things in the farmhouse, were going alright. It was easier to smile and laugh. I wasn't tired all the time, though that was mostly due to the harvest being over by now, and I needed to find another job. And with Christmas coming around, there was a new excitement in the walls.

However, I didn't understand why we needed a fake tree.

"So, why can't you just grow one?" I asked Taiga.

"Because, Sable is allergic to rotting pine needles," Taiga answered, "It's the same reason why we use the TV instead of an actual fire place. Mom couldn't handle the smoke."

"Speaking of the TV can I play video games on it now?" Shawnen asked, coming down the stairs.

"No," Taiga said, "We're using it for the fire place."

"It's not even Christmas yet," Shawnen said.

"But we are preparing for it," Taiga said, matter of factually, "It's for the ambiance licolo."

Shawnen looked at Taiga like he was crazy, before going back up the stairs.

Me and Taiga tried to put together the fake tree. A process that got me poked in multiple places, and led to an argument about how pine branches were supposed to look. Both of which sent Black Sheep, who was sitting a in pile of silver garland and organizing the ordainments (None of which were break able, thank God) by color, into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. Untangling the lights was even worse. Eventually we were able to start with the ordainments and garland.

That's when we heard a sudden shriek from the kitchen.

"Barnes!" Jenette yelled.

"What did I do now?" I asked.

The shapeshifter came into the living room, my prosthesis in her hand, "You need to give some kind of warning, before you put this thing in the dishwasher," She shoved it into my remaining hand and stormed back into the kitchen muttering, "When you open the dishwasher you expect to find plates and cups, not a flipping hand."

I looked at Black Sheep, he looked at me. We both started laughing. I attached my metal arm and we got back to work.

"Soft," Black Sheep said, opening another box of ordainments.

"What was that buddy?" I asked.

He held up a little cartoony owl ordainment, "It's soft, Bucky!" He ran over and handed it to me. The little owl turned out to be squishy and made of felt, the edges sloppily stitched together.

"Yeah, it is soft," I said, "Hey Taiga where do you want this one?"

Taiga looked over, and his eyes widened, "You found the felts."

"Felts?" I asked.

Taiga cleared his throat, and went over the box Black Sheep was pulling felt ordainments, "Mom, used to have this tradition. We'd pick out a pattern and hand stitch them for the family."

"You'd each sew your own?"

"No, just me, Arrow and mom. Sometimes Aunt Kate if she was over for Christmas, but it was mostly us," Taiga said.

I looked over the handmade ordainments. There were foxes, bears, squirrels, humming birds, peppermints, penguins, and of course owls. With the workmanship slowly getting better each year they made them. The owls had been first, the lopsided stitching they had was enough proof. Then came the Squirrels. Then the peppermints, penguins, foxes, humming birds, and finally the bears.

"Well," I said, "these are going in the place of honor then."

We started to put them on the tree. Honestly, they were very cute for Christmas ordainments, not like the boring shiny balls I had seen. Not mention the other ordainments these guys had, which mostly were disco balls and many different types of birds. Which was funny as birds lived in trees.

We were just finishing up, when Christin walked through the front door. Dressed up in a warm coat and boots.

"Hi Dad!" Taiga said.

"Hello Christin," I said.

"Hewo! Daba!" Black Sheep said. I had to stop myself from laughing at the nickname. Christin kids either called him 'dad' or 'baba', and Black Sheep being three, ended up combining those words. Thankfully, the clan leader took a liking to the nickname.

Christin chuckled warmly, "Hello boys! Oh, the tree looks great!"

"Thank you, baba," Taiga said, "How's the outside of the house?"

"Sparkly!" Christin laughed.

"Where's uncle Nico?" Jenette asked walking in from the kitchen.

"Making sure our wiring isn't going to set anything on fire," Christin said, taking off his boots and coat, "So who wants to make cookies!"

Black Sheep immediately raised his hand, causing everyone to laugh again. Suddenly there was a frantic knocking on the back door.

"I'll start on the cookies, you check that," Taiga said, heading for the kitchen.

Christin nodded and started for the door. I didn't see who was on the other side, but what Christin said next…

"Liune? What are you doing here?" The sudden shift in the clan leader's tone, made me concerned.

"Clan Leader Striker," spoke an unknown voice, "It's your daughter, Heiress Arrow. There's been an incident."

My stomach dropped.


A/N:

Here's where things start changing!

Oh, I love cliffhangers! At least when I make them! What happened to Arrow? Find out next time.

Licolo – chosen little brother