𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 | ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉᵈ

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 ▸𝒔𝒂𝒎𝒃𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒚

Bucky felt as if everything was falling on him. It was as if he were trapped between four walls, which were moving slowly toward him so that they could squash him like a cockroach. Every minute he spent at home made him feel worse. It choked him, it ate him, and he was sure that if he spent any more time here, he would not endure it. So he got up off the ground, wandered languidly into the foyer, where he grabbed his jacket, put on his boots, and hurried away.

As he stepped outside and took a breath of the sharp cold air, his mind cleared at least slightly, but what he felt went nowhere. He moved forward, wandering through the streets, his hands in his jacket pockets, concentrating on his breathing. A hurricane of thought roared through his head, loud as a swarm of bees, fighting over each other. It was the utterly incoherent bits that drove him mad, stirring not only a terrible headache but feelings he never wanted to experience again. The feelings he experienced after losing Steve. Once again, he felt as if he were all alone. He felt again that he wasn't good enough, that he'd never be good enough. Again, it felt as if he didn't belong here. Everything was wrong. Why did it come back again? Why did these thoughts attack him again, why did these feelings consume him? It all came so suddenly and Bucky hated it. He hated how easily he had given in, how easily he had begun to doubt himself again. He hated that he couldn't fight it. If only it could all just be turned off...

How naive he was to believe that things were about to start to turn around, that he would get over the past and start a new life. But he still wasn't able to.

After their final run-in with the Flagsmashers, his relationship with Sam had improved markedly, and Bucky was finally feeling better again after everything he'd been through. He never thought it would be Sam who would help him the most. But he did. He knew he could trust him, Sam tried to understand and support him, and Bucky felt safe with him.

Safe...

He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. He realized it was snowing, but he barely noticed it. He thought. Is that a stupid idea? Of course, it is. But you need help, said a small voice in his head, barely above the clamorous thoughts he had tried in vain to shut down, whispering things that made him anxious and brought him to his knees. One day you'll have to open up and understand that some people really want to help you and that you can trust them, his former therapist's voice added. Yes, he knew he could trust Sam and turn to him, but... it was Christmas. And Bucky didn't want to ruin a pleasant evening for him and his family, just because he suddenly began to feel bad. That's normal, isn't it? Everybody feels a little down sometimes, and they don't have to freak out about it... it'll go away again.

But in how long? he asked himself fearfully. And this wasn't just a one-day thing, a moment's anxiety for fear of the future, for the perfect surroundings...

Bucky could never ask for help. He was always sure he'd solve it himself. But he learned. He was learning to talk about what he felt, what he needed, what weighed him down. And with Sam, it was easier than with anyone else.

He made a decision. He'll go to Sam's house, and if he finds him there... he'll ask if he can... if he can... do something. Help him get through it. Interrogate him. And if he's not home, then it's clear he's with Sarah and his nephews. Besides, it wouldn't have been unusual, especially since it was Christmas. Bucky didn't hold out much hope.

It took him half an hour to reach the house where Sam lived. He didn't try to sort through his thoughts and prepare what he was going to say, what he was going to ask, because he knew it would be pointless anyway. The man who had held the door for him had just come out of the house, and Bucky nodded gratefully and slipped into the hallway. He went upstairs before stopping outside Sam's flat door, hesitating for a moment before raising his hand and briefly pressing the bell.

As he headed this way, he was about ninety percent convinced he wouldn't run into Sam. So he was somewhat surprised when the door opened a few seconds later and Captain America appeared on the doorstep, apparently on the verge of going somewhere. He looked startled to find out who had come to him. "Bucky?" he raised his eyebrows, and in another moment a concerned shadow crossed his face. Bucky shifted uneasily from foot to foot and looked away. Sam knew at once that he wanted to turn on his heel and walk away. So he grabbed his arm and pulled him in. "Come on. You're staying," he said firmly, closing the door behind him.

"But you're on your way out," Bucky said, a little taken aback, but when Sam looked at him sternly, the soldier knew better than to protest. He took off his shoes and hung his jacket on a rack. "How come you're not with your family?" he inquired on his way into the living room.

"There was something else I needed to do. And good thing, because you wouldn't go to Sarah's, would you?" he said smartly. "So what's going on?" he asked seriously when they sat on the sofa.

Bucky looked ahead with a sigh. He felt Sam's intense gaze on him, and frosty needles ran along his spine. "I... I don't know. It's just..."

"Nightmares?" asked Sam carefully, but Bucky shook his head.

"Not this time. I just... I couldn't take it anymore. It was like I couldn't breathe. And all these feelings and thoughts were trying to choke me up and..." He looked up at him. "I didn't want to be alone."

Sam gave him a proud smile and squeezed his shoulder. "The fact that you realized that and decided to take the first step and ask for help, even though we both know how hard that is for you... that's great, Bucky. And I'm glad you know there are people you can turn to if you need them. I can imagine how hard this must have been for you."

Bucky smiled slightly and felt the pressure on his chest slowly ease. Just the words he needed to hear, he guesses. Assurance. "Well, actually, I expected worse. And . . . if I was going to turn to someone else, it would probably get worse and harder." He looked at Sam carefully. The Captain seemed both surprised and pleased. "But I don't want to keep you here. Cass and AJ must be excited for you, and it's Christmas and-"

"Stay here, okay? Just stay here," he interrupted in a firm voice, rising to his feet. Bucky looked a bit like a puppy who's afraid his master will abandon him. Sam looked amused by his expression and raised his hand to sweep the last snowflakes out of Bucky's hair. "I have a lot of time. And if I'm late, they'll understand. And even if they don't, they'll forgive me if I bring you along. If you want, of course."

"I don't want to interfere..."

Sam sighed. "Sometimes you make such silly things fall out of you..." He shook his head and pulled out the blanket he slung over the Bucky's shoulders. "You'll get a hot chocolate. And don't you dare protest and tell me you don't like sweets. Because I know that's all lies."

So Bucky just smiled and pulled the blanket closer to his body as he watched Sam head into the kitchen. Yes, he felt comfortable, safe here. He knew Sam would help him.

Before disappearing into the kitchen, Sam paused on the doorstep. He turned and winked at him, a mysterious smile curling his lips as he said, 'Yeah, and I think I've got the Hobbit here too...'