Now wrong's the only right, since brave are cowards all -Now Does Our World Descend, E. E. Cummings.
Bucky was just taking a shower. He'd been having a good day for once; he hadn't had any panic attacks and he'd managed to relax and enjoy himself at the Avengers lunch. He laughed with Peter and felt the familiar fondness towards the boy. He reminds him of Steve when he was younger. Bucky had impressed Tony with his cooking skills, which he boasted about for the entire evening and was secretly delighted that Tony liked him now.
Bucky felt like he was finally healing. He thought he was getting better. He was supposed to be better, he was just trying to shower, like any other normal person and he couldn't even do that. But really Bucky is never going to be normal. Not anymore.
The water on his face was suddenly too warm, but when he turned it down abruptly it was freezing and suddenly he was in the ice again, thrashing to be free and he makes a gurgling sound at the back of his throat, wet and pained. He feels the panic soaring through his blood and knows he needs to get out, to get to the toilet but suddenly he's shaking and collapses onto his knees, winded.
He places two shaking arms onto the acrylic of the tub, supporting his fragile body with the strength of his metal arm. He pushes his head forwards to get as close to the plughole as possible as he loses all fight and inevitably vomits all over the inside of the bath.
Bucky moans and snakes a hand around his stomach, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as he heaves again, the sour taste of puke burning his nostrils and his throat as he let's out another cry. The water from the shower is still falling down on his head and dripping into his eyes, making it difficult to see where he's aiming for but he's too weak to move.
He retches until the stream of chunky vomit becomes lesser and soon he's gagging on air, dry heaving and calling for Steve, his voice weak and strained as he kneels in the tub.
"S've!" He yells, but really it comes out as a whisper. Shit. Steve isn't going to hear him, and then what? Bucky can't stop the tears now and they run down his face with the shower water.
"Please, Steve." He whimpers, willing his voice to be louder.
When Steve doesn't open the door Bucky let out a howl of pain. Steve has left him, he's sure of it. He's fed up of wiping his tears and cleaning his vomit daily. He's sick of him, and he's got up and left him all alone. All alone, shivering in the shower, heart pounding with the anxiety. He deserved this. Steve doesn't deserve him. Steve deserves the world, and Bucky doesn't deserve him.
"Oh, Stevie!" Bucky whispers sadly, knowing he sounds pathetic and whiney and of course Steve left him because of that. He feels anger bubbling up suddenly, and he's angry at himself for letting Steve down. With a yell, he pulled his metal arm back and threw a blow at a row of shampoo bottles lining up against the bath. They all fell to the floor with a clatter that made Bucky jump and whimper pathetically.
Just as Bucky held his arm over his face and let out a sob, he hears a voice call "Hey, can I come in? I'm worried."
Bucky can't respond, he can just whimper sadly. The door opens but he's too out of it to turn around. He knows it's too late when he starts feeling distanced and the sound of the running water and the sound of his own cries fade into nothing, replaced with images he'd thought he'd forgot.
Strong hands grab Bucky's shoulders and rub down the length of his flesh arm roughly, but not rough enough to hurt him. This can't be Rumlow. Rumlow doesn't care if he hurts the asset. Who is it? Is it time for the next mission yet?
The big hands curve under Bucky's sweating armpits and pull him up tenderly, like they've done this a million times. They sit his shaking, naked body on the side of the bathtub, keeping him upright and leaning onto the man's chest as he uses a hand to swish away the vomit down the drain.
The other man doesn't gag, he doesn't call Bucky disgusting, he doesn't hold his mouth open and shove pills down it, cursing, "He can't be sick! He's our most valuable weapon. Give him some pills, maybe sedate him for a bit. He will he needed soon," while the asset screams in pain and indignation.
He just cleans, keeping the asset stable at the same time. When he's done, he turns his head towards the asset.
"Hey, Buck. Can you hear me?" Buck. Blue eyes. Blonde hair.
"Steve." Bucky breathes, relieved he's here.
"You're here." He stammers.
"Of course I'm here, love. What's going on?" Steve asks gently, brushing a piece of Bucky's hair back.
"Cold." Monosyllabic. Simple. But that word holds the power no other word can. The word holds all of his trauma and his life, his entire life. Cold. Doesn't mean anything to anyone else, but the word makes Bucky swallow back another gag.
"Oh baby." The blonde man mutters, "You ready to get out, or are you feelin' dizzy?" He asks.
Bucky's eyes just roll to the back of his head and he leans his heavy head against the wall.
"Woah, don't pass out on me." Steve chuckles softly, but his concern is visible. Bucky just grumbles and his chest moves upwards as he tries to fill his lungs.
"Okay. We can wait for a minute." Steve soothes, rubbing patterns into Bucky's skin. Bucky likes it. Bucky likes the way Steve worships his body, whether it be sexual or otherwise. He likes the respect he gets. He's used to being naked in the shower around two bodyguards, hands cuffed together while the shower was set on one level. Freezing cold.
Bucky allows himself to take some deep breaths through his nose, knowing he's safe here with Steve.
"That's it, buddy. That's it." Steve praises lightly, hands resting on Bucky's broad shoulders.
"I'm okay." Bucky mumbles finally. Steve tilts his head slightly, able to see through him, but knowing this means he can get out now.
"Okay. Let's get you out." He holds Bucky up and wraps an arm around his waist, the other around his shoulders as he fully supports Bucky's weak body. He appreciates that. Bucky isn't small or weak, but right now he feels like he can collapse like a stack of cards.
Steve guides Bucky over the step out of the tub and grabs a towel, sitting the shaking man onto the toilet and wrapping him up in the huge towel, not too tight to make him feel like he's drowning in it.
"We can take our time, baby." Steve reassures, noticing how Bucky relaxes into his touch and not wanting to rush him out of the bathroom.
Half an hour later and Bucky was sprawled onto the sofa, strawberry scented hair and glistening skin from the shower. There's some colour in his cheeks now and Steve is smiling softly as he finds something for them to watch together.
"I've made you some soup if you're feeling hungry, sweetheart. You feelin' a little empty after that?"
"Mm." Bucky grumbles in response. Steve knows it isn't rudeness; he's trying.
"Okay honey. I thought I'd get you something that isn't gonna mess up your stomach any more. Should we see if you can hold it down, hm?" He coaxed. Bucky sits up as an answer and Steve is shocked at how cooperative he was being.
He gently scooped spoonfuls of tomato soup into Bucky's mouth, open and waiting. Steve could've cried at how cute it was. They got through the whole bowl without any problems and Steve internally thanked God. He didn't want Bucky to throw up again. His stomach muscles probably ache so badly already.
"Okay baby, I'll go wash this up. I'll be right back." Steve guides Bucky through what Steve is doing so he doesn't feel lost at any point. He walks to the kitchen and squirts some washing up liquid into the sink, swirling his hand around it to form bubbles which he uses to clean the bowl. On his way out of the kitchen, he picks something up subtly and places it into his pocket for Bucky.
Upon entering the living area Bucky reaches forwards to him with slightly shaky hands. "Steve." He smiles contentedly.
"Alright, I'm coming, Buckybear!" Steve rolls his eyes playfully, pulling out something from his pocket.
"Want your paci, baby?" He asks gently, voice full of faux excitement. For a second Bucky's eyes widen as he realises Steve has noticed his slight shift into littlespace. But when he waits a couple of beats and doesn't hear him laugh, he nods his head shyly.
Steve walks over to him and pops the pacifier into Bucky's mouth, him instantly suckling it peacefully. Steve lifts the blanket up.
"Budge over, Bear." He says and Bucky shuffles over obligingly, snuggling closer into Steve when he slides onto the sofa.
"I lo'e you, Stevie." Bucky mumbles, the sounds slightly muffled through the pacifier.
"Love you more, Buckaroo." Steve replies while Bucky falls asleep beside him