Steve Rogers And Bucky Barnes Images

Soothing

Warnings - mentions of abuse and torture, aspects of self harm, things seen as depression? (Yes?)

Major amounts of fluff! :)

UNEDITED AND NOT PROOF READ

Bucky has been free from Hydra for six months exactly. No wiping, abuse, or anything that could set him into a relapse, and he is slowly getting used to being around the team.

For six months, he has slowly been getting to know everyone while also keeping to himself. He doesn't know how to act around people so different from him on a completely different spectrum, or how to talk to someone without asking what something is due to not having been in the real world since war time.

Touching was a big no the minute Natasha had brushed against his arm, and everyone learned quickly he hasn't learned what nice touches were since being free. They were patient when he slowly discovered he can tell people if he was uncomfortable, and he was grateful no judging went around when he had to leave for air. He was growing more comfortable in the compound.

After months of getting to know everyone, Bucky realized he had slowly pushed closer to you out of everyone on the team, sometimes even Steve. You were more calm than the others, and only really spoke when he did.

It took him three months to speak to you first, having gone into your bedroom after seeing your light was on. You were perched up on the headboard watching some sort of movie, but looking out the window as rain came down.

You happily allowed him inside and made room for him on the bed, not even asking him why he was up as well. Once offering the bowl of popcorn, the two of you were watching the film and sitting in a comfortable silence until you fell asleep.

That was the first time Bucky had been calm after years of anxiety. He didn't feel like he had to talk, and learned more about you without even trying. It was a win-win.

Nightmares started coming up not long after, and he learned you were normally up past humanly hours, watching some movie or sitting by your window sill, writing in a journal you kept for yourself. Bucky had walked in to see you there, tucked away with your back to him. He heard your soft "come in" and he sat next to you, watching the snow come down that night with you next to him.

Neither of you spoke a word until after you finished writing. You set your journal aside and asked if he was okay, not even why he was in your room way past midnight. It was really the first time someone had asked him that and meant it. So he spilled.

Then he asked what the journal was for, and the two of you clicked almost instantly.

After months of going to your room, Bucky felt heard for the first time in almost a century. You listened attentively, and barely even flinched when he brought up sensitive topics of Hydra or even his equally abusive father growing up.

And through it all, he had your hand on his wrist or shoulder, telling him that you'll always understand and he can always come into your room. You had already known he wasn't much of a talker, so if he just wanted to watch a movie, to just come in and plop on the bed.

A month later, he was racing into your room, terrified out of his mind as he frantically searched for you. Unbeknownst to him, you had went downstairs for a snack, and he had only crawled into your bed and broke down right then and there.

The moment you had walked into your room, you were there, but scared to touch him. In the few months of talking to him you learned he wasn't the easiest person to touch, and with his state, you didn't want to distress him more. So just rubbing his back as he sobbed into your pillow was enough to calm him down before your hand found his roots, laying his head directly in your lap.