Little Secrets, Little Bucky

Little Discoveries

Bucky woke up that morning on the very edge of his headspace. He tried to push it back but was unsuccessful. It had been almost a week since he'd gotten to be little and his brain had gotten used to being allowed to slip more frequently. What he should've done was go find Y/n, tell her he was going little, and let her handle the rest.  It is that what Bucky did? Absolutely not.

Instead, he stupidly walked out of his suite and into the common area for breakfast with Sam and Steve, fully intending to stay big until breakfast was over and he could think of a good excuse to go to Y/n's suite. He went over to the stove and started getting ready to make himself eggs, making idle conversation while he cooked. He was proud of the fact that he was managing to hold it together, even if it was a constant struggle. When Y/n woke up he'd let her know what was going on and he'd go have some little time until he was ready to face the world again. Until that time came however, he would just have to hold on. So what if his grip on adulthood was slipping away? He could handle it, he was handling it.

But then everything fell apart. He was already barely hanging on to his adult mind when his hand brushed against a hot pan. It shouldn't have been a big deal, if he was big he could've just said a few curse words, run his hand under some cold water, and let it go. But he wasn't big. On instinct he cried out for his mama. He was little and he was in pain and all of a sudden he wanted her ten times more than before. Then he remembered where he was and who he was with and Bucky promptly burst into tears, backing himself into a corner of the kitchen in an effort to hide. He felt a hand on his shoulder and flinched violently, trying to escape the hurt he knew would come.

"It's ok, Bucky," he heard Sam's steady voice trying to reassure him, "We won't hurt you."

"Sam, what's happening?" Steve asked anxiously, "Why's he acting like that?"

"Steve, I need you to be quiet for a little bit, you're going to scare him more," Sam said patiently, Bucky was frightened enough without Steve asking difficult questions that he probably couldn't even answer while he was in his headspace.

Steve had never been more confused in his life. One second Bucky had been fine and the next he was curled up on the kitchen floor, sobbing hysterically like a little boy. And Steve could've sworn that he said 'mama' right before he started crying. Bucky never called his mom 'mama' when they were kids, just 'Ma'. And even if he had, his mother had died a long time ago. Bucky was well aware of that, why would he call out for her? "But Sam-"

"Steve!" Sam cut him off, "I'll explain later, I promise, but right now I need you to go wake up Y/n."

"My sister, Y/n?" Steve asked, still completely lost.

"No, Steve," Sam said, rolling his eyes, "The other Y/n that's asleep on our floor. Of course I mean your sister!"

Steve took another look at Bucky, who was still sobbing fearfully into his arms, and then quickly walked to Y/n's suite. At this point he'd do anything to get Bucky to stop crying like that, the sight of his best friend so distraught was killing him.

"Steve's going to go get your mama, ok?" Sam told Bucky, "She's coming to get you."

That made Bucky look up from where his head was buried in his arms to look at him. Sam had never seen the other man look so frightened. "I've known for a while," he said softly, "it's alright, I don't judge you for it."

Bucky's mama came sprinting into the room with Steve close behind her, still looking confused. She immediately crouched down beside Bucky, bringing him into her arms as he started crying even harder out of both humiliation that Sam and Steve had seen all of this and relief that Mama was there to handle it. "It's ok, you're safe," she tried to reassure him, "Sam, can you guys give us a second?"