Bucky turned the page in his book. Steve had bought him a new edition of The Hobbit and he'd been fixated to the words for days. They were so familiar but so new, printed in different fonts and it just brought back a wave of nostalgia that transported him back 70 years. Then Steve stood up.
"Food's ready, Buck." He told him while sliding the bookmark between the two pages of the book.
"Don't forget your place."
The blonde man smiled down at him but Bucky stared at him blankly. His throat felt tight like there was a noose tied around it and he found himself selfishly wishing there really was. At least then the feeling is going to lead to something good.
"Bucky?" Steve had his eyebrows raised, looking at Bucky's vacant expression and his trembling hand that he tried hiding in his jogger pocket.
"C'mon, sweetheart. You need to eat."
Bucky just stared at him as his heartbeat fluttered, but not in the good way. Not in the joyful way that happened when you looked at someone you love, but the frightened way in which leaves goosebumps up his flesh arm as he anticipates what happens next.
"Bucky, hey-" Steve seems to notice something isn't quite right with the asset. His voice gets more authoritive and responsible.
"Steve I-" The asset says his boyfriend's name. He needs to remember where he is. He feels his grip on reality slipping as he breathes harshly through his nostrils, making them flare.
"Buck. Hey. Listen, just come and eat. You're okay." Steve's hand squeezes Bucky's and Bucky tries squeezes his back but his reflexes are faster and he throws him off.
"Don't touch me!" He yelps fearfully and his grip on reality shrinks and shrinks.
"Woah, buddy." Steve tries coaxing him but soon Bucky is darting out of the sofa like he has something inside of him pushing him up.
His hands pull through his hair tightly as his breath gets caught in his chest and soon he's hyperventilating and shaking, metal hand raking through his long hair as he cries.
"Bucky, take a seat. You're dizzy." Steve instructs as Bucky wobbles on his feet and he's so out of it he allows Steve to guide him back into a sitting position.
"Alright. That's good. Now breathe in and out, slowly. We're gonna count, okay?"
"One, two, three, hold. One, two, three... out. Good. Don't rush it. Slow."
Bucky gasps in air uncomfortably, his big terrified eyes locked on Steve's calm blue ones.
"I'm right here. You're doing good. Now try again."
Steve keeps his voice firm but not commanding, instructive but not authoritive. The right mix when Bucky is like this.
"What - What's - what's happening - to- m-m-" He pants, hands still tearing at his hair as he rocks himself back and forth, looking pleadingly at Steve.
Steve sighs sadly. He knows Bucky knows what's happening, but he's so out of it he thinks it's something else like a malfunction or a fault. Steve hates it when Bucky gets like this. He hates it when he sees himself as a machine and not a person.
"You're alright, sweetheart. You're having a panic attack. You just have to breathe. Focus on my voice, okay? I'm right here. Can you see me? I'm gonna get you through this."
Bucky nods stiffly, gulping. His Adams apple bounces in his throat uncomfortably.
"I'm s- sor- sorry s- sir I - didn't -" Steve holds him around the shoulders, trying not to hyperventilate himself at the fact he just called him "sir". God.
"No, no, no. You don't call me that. I'm Steve. You're Bucky. James Buchanan Barnes. Do you remember?"
"I don't - r-r-" He wheezes a long panicked breath before putting his head in his hands, shoulders lurching to try and keep up with his ragged breathing.
"Oh, Buck. Oh baby. Just listen. Breathe in slowly. I'll do it with you. Just focus on me."
"Where's sss - St-"
"I'm here. I'm right here. I'm not leaving. Look up, Bucky. I'm here." Steve's voice is getting more and more frantic but he tries so hard to keep it steady and calm. He's just getting worse, Steve thinks. He probably should get somebody else. He will, if he deteriorates further.
Bucky looks up at Steve with a long whine.
"Good boy. Right here. With you."
Steve rubs his thumbs up Bucky's hands.
"You're okay."
But Steve really wasn't convinced. Bucky was wheezing like he was running out of oxygen but he just reminds himself this happens, he's dealt with loads of his panic attacks. He really is fine.
"Can I touch you, baby?"
"Please," Bucky whined, voice cracking with pain.
"Alright. Okay." Steve wrapped his strong arms around Bucky's shivering body and he instantly leaned himself closer until Steve could feel the other man's shaky breath on his neck. Tears ran down Steve's back as he rubbed Bucky's.
"Shhh, shh. Settle down now, my love. You're alright," he kept repeating small reassurances as he felt utterly helpless. But when he felt Bucky's cold metal fingers fisting his shirt and his sobs slowly die down into small sobs he realised he was helping more than enough.
"Good boy. You're doing so well."
Bucky whimpered.
They stayed like that for ten more minutes until Bucky wasn't shaking anymore, just exhausted and slumped into Steve's arms.
"That's it. Now do you want food? We can eat it on the sofa."
Bucky just nods tiredly, eyes hooded and red.