Here We Go Again

23: Sometimes, Being Gay Is Hard

It was pitch black. Gunshots rang out, the sound echoing and echoing, getting louder and louder. People started screaming, but he couldn't see them. He couldn't see anything. There was a flash of light, bright white and directly in front of him. Someone was yelling, a man, but he couldn't understand what the guy was saying. Suddenly he was struggling to breathe; it felt like he was drowning.

Then it was cold. Everything around him stopped. There was no more gunshots, no more screaming, no more yelling. Air rushed into his lungs again and his throat burned as he breathed hard, his head feeling as though it were swelling up. His arm started to burn, an intense red heat blinding him. He screamed.

Bucky's eyes shot open. His throat felt raw. He could still feel the pain in his left shoulder— the pain of what once was. His room was dark, the soft green light from his alarm clock casting a dim glow across his bed. Bucky looked around, breathing deep, to steady himself, remind himself that he was home, he was safe.

His door opened slowly. Confused and slightly frightened, he backed up against the headboard of the bed, eyes wide. It didn't look like anyone was behind the door until it was halfway open and someone walked into the room.

"Hey man, are you okay?" a soft voice asked. Bucky sighed in relief and let himself relax.

"Sam, hey. Yeah, I'm fine."

"Didn't sound fine when you were screaming a minute ago," Sam replied, closing the door and sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Oh shit. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"I don't care that I'm awake, dude. Are you okay?"

"I told you, I'm fine."

"Barnes."

"It was just a nightmare. It's fine. I'll be fine."

"You can't lie to me. That was a night terror, man." Bucky gave him a look. "Don't worry, I get them too."

"What do you mean?"

"I was a soldier too, Bucky. I lost my partner. That was the hardest shit I've ever been through."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

They sat in silence for a moment. Sam stared at the wall, and Bucky stared at Sam. Then Sam yawned, and Bucky started feeling bad again.

"I'm sorry you woke up. You didn't have to come down here, really. Go back to sleep, I'll be fine."

"I'm not just gonna leave you here alone after hearing that scream, man."

"It's not a big deal!"

"Yes it is, dumbass. I care about you."

Bucky went quiet. He had always assumed the people in the Tower cared about him—he knew Steve certainly did—but he never actually thought about how anyone would actually go out of their way to make him feel comfortable and cared for.

"Listen, I know you've been having a rough week. All that shit with Alex, the insomnia, your ankle, I know. I don't want you to feel like you have no one to talk to about this shit."

"I know I could talk to Steve, but I've been bothering him with my bullshit for almost a century, so I don't know if want to dump even more stuff on him, ya know?" Bucky said quickly. Sam looked at him. Then he sighed.

"I wasn't talking about Steve, man. I was talking about me. I meant you can talk to me about this shit if you want. I'm here to listen, Barnes."

"Oh. That makes sense too." Sam chuckled at that.

"Do you want to talk about anything?"

"I don't know. You know, it's just been hard. Things don't work out for me, it seems. Like with Alex. I thought everything was going fine, like we really liked each other and everything, but I guess I wasn't good enough or something 'cause he ended it out of the blue. Probably 'cause I'm ancient," Bucky joked. Same smiled, then frowned.