Yesterday, Tomorrow, Today

The subway ride home was hellish. Rush hour traffic meant there was people coming and going and fighting for seats. That only added to the glares Rose kept receiving for taking up too much space with her many bags. Her cheeks burned all the way home. 

The trek up the apartment stairs was no less grueling but at least there was no one there to glare at her. She wiggled her key in the lock and shuffled into the apartment sideways so as to not squash the bags on the door frame. She kicked the door closed behind her and dropped the bags. Something metal clinked at the bottom on one of them. Rose turned the deadbolt and checked the locks twice, then turned to the living room to look for Bucky, only to find the couch empty. Even the corner where he’d slept was empty. 

“Bucky?” she called into the quiet apartment. She stepped into the hall and glanced into her room, which also came up empty. Her heart plummeted. 

Rose dragged herself to the kitchen, feeling so much more exhausted than before. She’d thought for sure he wouldn’t go anywhere. The soft crinkling of paper startled her out of her thoughts. Rose quickly rounded the kitchen counter and nearly screamed. 

There was Bucky, crouched over the paper shopping bags. 

“You scared me,” she chastised gently. “Where were you?” 

He didn’t answer. Bucky just fixed her with that steadfast stare and remained as he was. 

Rose sighed. “Well I got you some new clothes,” she told him, approaching him slowly. “You really can’t keep wearing all that leather. And I hate to tell you this, but you really really need a shower.” 

Bucky continued to stare at her from his crouched position. Rose bit the inside of her cheek and knelt in front of him. 

“I got random sizes, so I hope they fit.” She pulled out a plain t-shirt and held it up to his chest. Her knuckles grazed the metal buckles of his tactical suit. 

“I think it’ll fit.” She mumbled to herself and retreated. “I’m going to throw this stuff in the wash and then we’re getting you a shower.” 

She left no room for argument as she scooped up the bags and headed for the laundry closet. Rose stuffed the washer with as much as it would fit and put it on for a quick wash so the clothes might be washed and dried by the time she managed to convince Bucky to get in the shower. 

That turned out to be easier said than done. 

Bucky outright refused to shower. Of course, his form of refusal was standing in the bathroom doorway with a dead stare fixed on Rose as she desperately tried to coax him inside. 

Rose sighed and plopped down on the closed toilet lid, her head dropping into her hands. She didn’t know if he was misunderstanding her or just completely refusing. The first one she could work with. But she could not continue to share her cozy apartment with a very smelly man. 

Out in the hall, the drier dinged. 

Rose’s hands dragged down her face and she pleaded with him once more. “Bucky, please—“ she stopped on a gasp. 

He was closer than before. He was in the bathroom with her, which was further than he’d gotten in the past hour. If Rose reached out her arm she could touch him. She didn’t. 

Instead, she gave Bucky a small, tired smile. “You’re doing great.” 

That elicited the first reaction she’d gotten out of him all day—a crinkled brow. 

“How about we do it together?” Her cheeks flushed as Rose realized the double meaning in her words. “Just don’t get any funny ideas, okay?” she rushed to add. “We’re just gonna step into the shower and go from there.” 

Rose’s heart pounded furiously as she stood and craned her arm around to pull down the zip of her dress. It pooled at her feet and she scooped it up quickly, folding the cotton and placing it by the sink. She turned the shower knobs to her preferred temperature: scalding. 

Bucky was still staring and, to her relief, she found no lust in his eyes, even as she stood in front of him in just her bra and underwear. The last time she’d had to do this for someone there was no fear of unwanted advances. 

Rose swallowed and braved a step closer to him. 

“Okay, your turn.” She reached for the buckles of his jacket and paused. “Is it okay if I touch you?” 
Rose searched Bucky’s face for an answer. She didn’t have to look too hard. After a moment or two, he nodded. She sighed with relief. They were getting somewhere. 

With careful fingers, she undid the buckles holding his jacket closed. After each one, Rose glanced up at Bucky to make sure it was okay to keep going. Somewhere between the fifth an sixth buckle Rose realized that she probably could’ve kept her dress on for this part. But steam from the shower and heat radiating from Bucky’s chest surrounded her in the tiny bathroom and the thought flew out of her mind as quickly as it had arrived. 

Finally the last buckle was open and the jacket hung loose on his shoulders. He wore nothing underneath, so there was nothing to hide the thick, jagged scars on his left shoulder. Rose swallowed thickly, her fingertips hovering just above the mutilated flesh, and looked up at him. 

There was something in Bucky’s face, in the way it twisted, that wasn’t just apathy. He was looking past her. Light reflected off the tears gathered in his eyes. He didn’t let them fall but the fear twisting his face hit Rose square in the gut. She reached for his face with quivering fingers. 

“Bucky?” The moment she touched his face a metal hand snatched hers away. 

Rose hissed in pain as he twisted her forearm at an uncomfortable angle. 

“Bucky, it’s just me. It’s Rose.” She laid her left hand over the metal fingers that had in a death grip. “It’s okay, you’re safe here.” 

He blinked. The faraway look faded a bit, as did the fear, just enough for him to turn those haunted eyes on her. He seemed to examine her, studying her face and the hand that he held twisted in his. 
 
Bucky blinked again and his grip on her arm fell away. Rose sucked in a breath of relief. One hurtle down, one more to go. She hoped he had on underwear. 

By some miracle, Rose didn’t have to peel the leather off Bucky’s legs. After he came to, he seemed more lucid somehow. He glanced between the steaming shower and the woman in front of him and unbuckled the tactical belt on his own. 

Rose scrambled to turn around around when he began to shuck his combat boots and pants. It occurred to her then that she’d never seen a naked man in real life. Movies, sure, even porn on occasion (she preferred her smut in literature), but never in real life, and never so close to her. 

The clink of metal on the bathroom tile let her know that the pants were off. The bathroom was full of steam and Rose was starting to sweat. Hair stuck to the back of her neck. 

“Will…will you get in the shower now?” Rose asked, cursing herself silently for how breathy she sounded. 

“Yes.” 

The reply startled her. She hadn’t actually been expecting a verbal response. Bucky wasn’t big on those. 

“Okay, great. I should, um, I should go then—”

“No. 

Rose stuttered. “N-no?”

“Together.” 

Her heart pounded. Together. He wanted to shower together. But then again, she had said they would do this together. Rose swallowed her fear as best she could and nodded. 

“Okay…together.” 

Cold fingers wrapped her upper arm. He pushed her—surprisingly gently—towards the shower. Rose’s bare feet whispered across the tile until her toes hit the side of the tub. 

“In.” 

Bucky’s voice had her shivering despite the warmth of the room. But this was progress. He was speaking, he was showering. So Rose stepped over the lip of the bathtub and squeezed close to the shower wall to allow Bucky to step in behind her. And he did. 

She felt the brush of skin against the back of her knee for just a fraction of a second, and then the hot water was hitting them both. Rose was sure she was going to pass out. 

The fingers around her arm squeezed once and pulled her to turn until she faced the back wall of the shower. 

“Stay.” 

Relief flooded her system as Bucky’s hand retreated from her skin. Rose listened to his feet splash quietly as he stepped into the spray. Rose stood there with her back to him, her underwear and bra getting splashed occasionally, and stared at the water swirling around her toes. 

When Bucky first stepped beneath the shower stream, the water at her feet ran brown and pink. She waited, hardly breathing, until it ran clear. When it finally did, Rose had enough room in her brain to remark to herself that this was the weirdest shower she’d ever taken. Though, she couldn’t even really say she’d showered, seeing as water only touched the backs of her legs and not much else. 

Rose lost count of the minutes that had passed by the time the shower shut off, but her toes were wrinkled from the water. She fumbled for the fresh towel she’d hung on the rod and passed it to him over her shoulder. Bucky pulled it from her grasp without a word. Fabric rustled for a couple long moments before a hand appeared in Rose’s peripheral and drew back the shower curtain. She took that as her chance to hop out first. Her bare toes squished into the bath mat. 

“I’ll get you some clothes,” she called over her shoulder as she yanked the door open and practically ran from the room. 

She threw open the laundry closet and ruffled around in the stacked dryer for some clothes for Bucky. Everything was dry and warm, so she snatched up the first shirt and pair of pajama pants that she spotted, along with a pair of boxer briefs. She folded everything into a messy pile. Rose shut the dryer, vowing she’d come back for the rest of the laundry sometime before next spring. 

She clutched the bundle to her chest and tiptoed back to the bathroom on wet feet. 

Rose tapped her knuckles against the door, which sat open an inch. 

“Yes.” Bucky’s voice called from inside. 

“I um, I have clothes for you. Can I come in?” 

Silence. And then—

“Yes.” 

Rose pushed the door open just enough to shuffle inside and set the clothes on the bathroom counter. Her eyes remained on her toes the entire time and it didn’t even occur to her to grab her own dress from the other side of the counter. When Bucky’s feet stepped into her eye-line she swiftly fled the scene. 

Rose ran into her bedroom and shut the door behind her. “Get it together Rose,” she mumbled to herself. 

She was a grown woman after all. Helping a man shower should not have her blushing and stumbling over herself like this. But then, Bucky wasn’t just a man. He was a soldier. A man who died long ago. Yet here he was, with a metal arm and what Rose could only presume was decades worth of PTSD. He wasn’t just a man. But she still needed to treat him like one. And that meant changing into a fresh pair of big girl panties and getting back out there. 

Rose dug around her closet for some fresh clothes and her favorite knit socks. Things always felt a bit easier with comfy socks and a cup of tea. 

Rose left her bedroom confidently, with a resolve to not let anything distract her from helping Bucky Barnes recover. But then she saw him, standing barefoot in her living room. He looked so casual, so—dare she say it—relaxed, in sweats and a blue henley, that the resolve she’d gathered just moments ago nearly evaporated.