Chapter 4
Steve was a ghost in his own apartment. He was so pale that it seemed you could see through his skin if he stood in the light. He didn't sleep and he didn't eat. He was terrified of what was going to come next so he hid away.
---
It was Natasha that noticed Steve's dissapearance first. Of course, everyone was worried but no one else paid attention the same way. It was on the eighth day of his disappearance from the Tower that she decide to pay him a visit. She went and got some groceries, some medical supplies, she didn't know what he would need. She wasn't even sure if she was doing the right thing.
---
"Steve, open your goddamn door." Tasha was yelling now.
"Fuck it." She mumbled as she picked the lock.
In her time, Natasha had seen a lot of things, but she was not prepared for the sight of Steve's wrecked apartment, the usually meticulous space was now covered in far spreading mess. She found him huddled under the covers of his bed, flinching away at the sound of her footsteps. It was worse than she had thought.
"Steve I know you're there."
"You can't prove that." The quiet voice filtered out through the blankets.
"Okay, you are going to have a nap while I clean the apartment. Then I'm going to wake you up and you are going to eat something."
"Whatever."
Steve and Bucky are tangled in each other's laps while Steve's mother looks on fondly. The two young children are prodding and squealing at each other. Sarah Roger's is just glad her scrawny son has found a friend that he can trust. She knows Steve will always be a little different but as long as he's happy she's okay with that. One day she hopes the Barnes kid'll love Stevie back.
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"Stevie," They are fourteen and Bucky says his name like a prayer and all Steve can think about is the way Bucky's hands feel. Steve is drawing him in messy charcoal, it makes Bucky look a little dangerous but Steve makes sure he is still soft.
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"So, I heard you were necking with Alice yesterday." Steve isn't jealous, just curious; no girls will even go on a date with him Sometimes he hates being little Stevie Rogers.
"Why you jealous, babe?" Bucky says it with that little smirk that makes his heart skip a beat.
"Jerk."
"Punk."
Steve wishes Bucky wasn't so casually affectionate (bordering on flirtatious) ; he doesn't know how to respond. It doesn't help that he has a massive crush on the jerk. He really wishes he didn't but he doesn't know how to stop.
---
The war is getting closer and Steve can feel it in his bones. Bucky's going to leave him and he's going to be alone and he's so scared he can barely breathe.
He's falling and the air's rushing past him. Bucky's next to him. He can feel the sticky blood on his wrists and his thighs, but he didn't, he couldn't. And Bucky doesn't even look sad anymore and they're both falling and
Steve wakes up with Natasha's hands on his shoulders.
"It's okay. You're awake.It's okay." She's had the nightmares too, he can tell, the ones so vivid you wake up grasping and thrashing. He lets out a broken sob , it's the third one in three days and he just wants to sleep. To be able to close his eyes without seeing bleeding red lines and the air speeding past.
"Let's get you up, get you some food." Tasha says it like a question but the firm hand on his shoulder tells him otherwise. Steve's okay with that though. It's the first time someone has tried to take care of him in a long time.
---
"We need to talk, Steve, you can't carry on like this."
Steve inspected Tasha over the table, trying to silently stare her down through red rimmed eyes.
"This isn't okay." She spoke softly and just hoped Steve would listetn to her.
Steve paused for a second. "Don't you think I don't know that, I just, I don't know what I'm doing anymore."
After that they talked normally, though Steve still had his reservations.
---
"I think you should move back to the tower."
"I can't."
"I know"
---
"Tasha, I think there's something wrong with me."
"Hm?"
Steve's breath came short in his lungs. How could he tell her about the way he felt when it still felt so bitter in the back of his throat?
"Steve, are you okay?" He felt her hand on his shoulder and the concern in her voice.
"I'm gay." For a second it was like his ribcage fell inwards, like the bad chest infections he had as a child when no one thought he would make it through alive.
"Okay, but you said something was wrong with you. It's not the forties anymore Steve that's not a problem."
"But it's unnatural and wrong." Steve spat the words.
"No its not, but I think you should start going to the VA again, you need to talk through this."
"Are you sure that I'm not a monster." He slumped onto the table, defeated.
"Of course."