Bucky Barnes Fanfiction Collection

Here Comes a Thought

Summary: Because of his PTSD and depression, some days with Bucky are better than others. Your 5-year-old daughter is not scared of it, though. Sometimes she seems to know what to do to assure her dad she's there for you.
Pairing: Bucky x Reader; Bucky x Daughter!OFC
Warnings: PTSD and depression mention, angst, fluff.

"Hey." You leant on the doorframe to look at Bucky.

Bucky had PTSD and depression, and this was something stated since you met him. The whole time with H.Y.D.R.A. had broken him and his time being an Avenger didn't make it any easier. He was a hero, now admired and not feared anymore but that didn't mean things were easy for him and – in extension – for you.

You and Bucky were together for some years now, long enough to be proud parents of a smart girl with his blue eyes and Y/H/C hair, a perfect mixture of the two of you.

"Are you okay?" You questioned in a whisper.

"I just need some time." He muttered, his eyes wide open and right arm holding the pillow you usually slept with and you took a breath, walking to his side and moving his dark hair out of his face. "I'll be okay."

You nodded and kissed his forehead.

"Call me if you need me. I'll be in the living room."

Bucky wasn't on meds but in alternative therapies. Along with you and your daughter, you had a weekly session of family therapy, sometimes couple's therapy and your usual one-on-one session you've already had without him. You also had a service dog – McGee – and art therapy. It all helped with Bucky and his situation, and helped you and your daughter understanding more of him, but didn't change the fact that some days he would still be haunted by his past. With time together, you learnt a lot about Bucky, and that included the fact that he needed to be the one pulling himself out of such days and not you. It was hard seeing him like his but this was the best you could do, tell him you were there and let him come to terms with himself. If he wanted to you with him, he would ask you to be with him, but you couldn't force him to accept your presence.

"Okay." He muttered.

You went back to the living room in silence, and Becca raised her head from her colouring book besides McGee.

"Momma." She looked at you. "Is daddy okay?"

You bit your lip for a moment and sat down with a sigh.

"He'll be okay, honey." You affirmed, calming her down. "Remember what the doctor said, that sometimes daddy remembers bad things and he can't stop thinking about them?"

She nodded softly. Becca was 5 now and knew enough about her father's mental illnesses not to be afraid of it every time he had a harder day.

"Can I see him?" She asked shyly, her blue eyes glued to yours and you nodded.

Silently, almost nervous, your girl walked out of the living room, leaving you alone with McGee and the TV on in a cartoon you've seemed her watch many times. It was about a dorky boy with a gem on his belly button and a pet lion. You didn't know much about it; it was something she watched with Bucky on their date nights.

You had imagined your girl would be back in less than a minute or two, but it didn't happen. Instead, you found yourself walking to your bedroom silently and stopping when you heard her childish voice singing softly.

"It's okay, it's okay, I've got nothing, got nothing to fear." She seemed concentrated on saying every single word in the right way and not trip in her childish mistakes. "I'm here, I'm here, I'm here."

You gave them a look from the doorframe, seeing how Bucky had his head on her lap, both facing away from you as her hand caressed his thick hair.

"And it was just a thought, just a thought," She continued, looking down at him and you felt your eyes filling your tears out of your own control. "It's okay, it's okay. We can watch, we can watch, we can watch them go by from here, from here."

You knew nothing about the song she was singing. Maybe she was losing the lyrics or in a wrong melody but her words touched you deeper than you imagined a simple song could. She wasn't just singing, she meant every word like she had rehearsed them multiple times for the moment her dad needed it.

"Take a moment to think of just flexibility, love and trust." She finished, her little voice disappearing.

There was a short moment of silence before she broke it.

"Daddy, why are you crying? Did I make you sad?" Becca questioned, her tone filled with tension.

Bucky shook his head sat down, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

"No, princess. You never make me sad." He affirmed, and you noticed how his voice was cracked. "I'm crying because I love you."

"I love you too, daddy." She sounded visibly more relaxed.

"I'm very proud of you, Becca." He whispered and you walked away. This wasn't your moment to watch.

When you went back to the living room, drying your tears with the back of your hand, you closed your eyes, her voice echoing through you.

"I'm here, I'm here. I'm here."