Let Me Feel Again ~ Steve x Bucky

Never Forgive But Try To Forget

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Oof... I haven't updated in like two months....

Oof

Well, if you don't hate the awkward upload schedule, feel free to continue reading and hopefully enjoying. Also, I figured I might as well mention that most of these chapters will be from Bucky's point of view, however, there will be third person and Steve's point of view sprinkled throughout.
(Ps. It's been a while since I've seen my therapist, so I apologize if the therapy part of this is a little weird.)
Steve's Pov

"That's odd," I mutter to myself, "He's usually up before me."
There's faint snoring coming from behind his closed door. He never sleeps in this late so he either was up really late, which is possible, or he's getting sick, which is almost impossible. Nonetheless, I'm glad he's sleeping without fits.

I might as well make breakfast for the both of us, I thought to myself as I grabbed the eggs and pancake mix, just like old times.

I started on breakfast, moving through it like clockwork. Not really paying attention but instead reminiscing of the time before the serum. The times when I'd wake up early and make breakfast while Bucky slept in late and inhaled most of what I had made when he woke up. Back when things were simple.

"Do I smell pancakes?" A voice inquired from behind me.

"Mmhmm," I hummed in response, flipping a pancake onto a plate which Bucky immediately shoved in his mouth.

I turned and crossed my arms,"You gonna bother putting anything on your pancakes, or are you just eating them plain?"

"I'll eat whatever I want however I want," Bucky laughed through his mouthful of pancake.

I just shook my head and smiled in response and continued to cook. What he said made me happy though. He was doing things the he wanted to do because he wanted to do them.

When we sat down to eat, I started to think.

"Hey Buck? We might need to ask the therapist about this first, but I was thinking, what if we try to get rid of the things that Hydra gave you? If we get your hair cut and give you scar treatment, maybe even get you a new arm from Wakanda? If we can do that, maybe it'll help your state of mind."

Bucky paused and set down his cutlery, clenching both hands into fists. He hated being forced to think about things like this, but I wanted to try to help, even if it was just something small.

He stared at his metal arm for a while, contemplating my words, "if the therapist agrees with you, then yes. But I ...." he paused again, "I don't want a stranger to do it."

I understood, he was terrified of strangers doing things to him because previous strangers had poked and prodded at him, torturing him, destroying memories and self worth.

"We can get Tasha to cut your hair and Dr. Cho to treat the scars, we'll make things better for you," I promised.

He only nodded in response before returning to his pancakes.

                         ••••••••••••••
Bucky's pov

"You can take me in with you if it makes you more comfortable," Steve offered as he parked the car.

"Steve, you're makin' this more stressful than it needs to be. Just wait for me in the lobby, I'll be fine," I assured him for the fifth time.

"I promise, pal. I'll be alright on my own, I trust Sam's judgement, I know this doctor won't hurt me."

Finally, after the hours of convincing before we got here, he nodded and unlocked the doors or the car.

We walked up to the doors of a rather large white and black farmhouse. I checked in right as the therapist called my name. Steve looked at me, clenched his jaw, and sat in the ornate chair by the stairs, pouting. I rolled my eyes and stuck my tongue out at him, he pouted more.

The doctor shook my hand, "Good afternoon, Sergeant Barnes. My name is Dr. Nina Wright and I will be your therapist," she gestured to the stairs, "Shall we?"

When we entered her ornate Victorian style office, she sat me down and asked the general questions, what goes on inside my head, how I cope and whatnot. I answered the questions without much of a hitch until she asked a very odd and out of the blue question.

"Do you have a romantic relationship with Captain Rogers?"

I stuttered in surprise, "What? No, I don't."

Dr. Wright nodded and checked a box on her sheet, "Do you have any Romantic feelings towards Captain Rogers or other men?"

Do I? I never really thought about it, I've always been too preoccupied. Besides, in the 1940s, it would have been practically unheard of for a man to love another man. What do I feel?

"I - I don't know? I guess I never really thought about it."

She hummed in response while checking another box, "If you figure it out, tell me. Going through something like coming out can be very difficult," she paused for a moment, checking a few more boxes and scrawling something down before turning to me again, "Alright, I think that about does it. Any more questions?"

I suddenly remembered what Steve and I had talked about this morning, "Yeah actually. I was talkin' about ways I could start to be more of myself again with Steve, and he suggested getting rid of the things that... that hydra gave me."

"How do you mean?" The doctor questioned, setting the clipboard to the side.

"Like cutting my hair, getting scar treatment, maybe having someone craft a new arm for me? It might help me gain more control of myself. Maybe make me feel more human?"

Dr. Wright nodded thoughtfully, "That's a good idea, James. I think it's worth a shot."

                         ••••••••••••••
As we drove back to the Avengers tower I told Steve what Doctor Wright had said about his idea.

He immediately got distracted, "This is great! I'll call Nat when we get back to the tower, Doctor Cho should be coming next month, and I'll talk to Tony about getting in contact with T'Challa-"

"Steve, I know you're excited," I started, "but try to stay calm so we don't drive off the road!" I gasped as he almost swerved into the other lane.

"Shit!" He cursed as he pulled back into the right lane.

I gave him my best disappointed look, "Steven Grant Rogers, Watch your language!"

He immediately rolled his eyes and whined, "God, not you too!"

I laughed... but there was that feeling again. The laughter felt forced... but that couldn't be right, I was happy, wasn't I?