Narrator's POV

"Hah." Sam stopped and leaned over to catch his breath after he had finished his morning run.

It was a calm, quiet and some may say nice morning after everything that happened a few months ago.

Nevertheless, Sam decided to walk the rest of the way to his home, wondering if his new roommate would be up by now. Judging by all the tossing and turning he usually heard coming from Bucky's room, he knew the soldier didn't get enough sleep. He finally arrived home, coming in and going over to the fridge for some water, listening for any sign of life in the house.

///0///0

Blue eyes with black bags under them stared straight at the ceiling above them.

Another sleepless night.

Bucky was barely awake, laying in bed tossing and turning and wondering if he should even get out for the day. He had nothing to do. He had made it clear that he wasn't going to be involved with the Avengers meetings anymore unless it was a life or death situation. He rubbed his face with his flesh hand, staring at the light streaming in through the blinds and finally pushing himself to sit up. His hair was a mess, long and tangled, but he couldn't be bothered brushing it. So he tossed it up into a bun and slid out of bed after a few stretches.

It was then that he heard Sam come home, and Bucky really hoped he had brought some breakfast back. When he walked out from his room, he saw the man empty handed; a sigh left his lips. He hadn't even bothered to put a shirt on, only wearing pajama pants as he shuffled barefoot across the floor and opened the fridge to drink milk straight from the jug.

Sam was surprised to see Bucky up at this time. He looked so exhausted. "You're up early." Sam said, putting his water down and opening the cabinets and taking out a pan. "Hungry?" He asked. "Sorry I couldn't stop by Rosie's to get some breakfast this morning. I know how much you like their French toast, but I think I can whip some up. I've been watching some videos." He said, trying some small talk since he and Bucky didn't talk much during the day.

Bucky looked the man up and put the milk back, nodding "Woke up early, couldn't get back to sleep." He didn't want to say what woke him up, not wanting to seem so weak and vulnerable in front of Sam.

How would that conversation go? 'I had a bad dream and I was too scared to fall asleep because I'm five years old'... no way.

"Whatever you make will be fine." Bucky mumbled, moving to the couch and flopping down to turn on the TV.

"Okay, then." Sam said, grabbing some bacon and eggs from the fridge.

A quick easy breakfast.

There was silence between the two, the only sound was the television and some sounds outside from cars passing by and whatever birds could be heard in the city.

Sam thought about something to say to get some conversation going. He suddenly remembered something he'd come across this morning on his run. "I helped a pigeon out today." He said. "It had a dislocated wing, and I stopped to helped it." He said, moving the eggs around in the pan.

Bucky glanced aside at the man then looked back to the TV. "Uh huh, hope it didn't scratch you and give you rabies."

Sam let out a scoff. "Pigeons can't carry rabies." He said, getting plates out and putting breakfast in them. "Birds can't carry rabies. Only-"

"I don't remember asking." Bucky interrupted, walking over to the table and took the farthest seat from Sam.

"You know you don't always have to be an ass all the time, right?" Sam asked sarcastically. "Specially when someone just made you breakfast."

"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings." Bucky said, obviously not caring if he had or not. "And you could've done better with the eggs."

"I swear the only reason you're still under my roof is because I promised Steve I'd look after you." Sam said.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't make promises you can't keep." Bucky said back at him.

"I don't know what Steve saw in you that-"

"STEVE'S GONE!" Bucky slammed his fist on the table, making the plates and silverware rattle.

Silence filled the house.

The tv had suddenly fallen into a static, breaking the silence.

"And he's never going back." Bucky didn't feel such an intense need to be at his physical best anymore. And so now, he wasn't looking after himself properly. He was sad, depressed even, but refused to let show even the smallest signs of it.

Sam looked at Bucky, seeing the anger that ran through those blue eyes; but anger wasn't the only thing behind those eyes. "James-"

"Don't call me that." Bucky stood up from the table. "My name is Bucky." He said, leaving the room.

Sam sat back in his chair, sighing.

This was just great.

He'd hoped that this morning would be calm and the rest of the day would smoothly follow along.

>crack<

Sam looked up, seeing that the table slowly began to fall inward. "No, no, no-"

The table, along with the dishes and everything on it fell to the ground with a crash.

"Hah..." Sam sighed, putting his face in his hands.

///0///0

"Yeah. Sounds like him."

"I'm trying, Steve. I really am, but every time I seem to get past one wall, there's another bigger wall."

"I know." Steve's tired blue eyes looked up at Sam. "Bucky's always been the stubborn type. Pass me that piece."

Sam handed Steve an orange jigsaw puzzle. He had come to visit Steve at the retirement home, searching for advice for his current problem.

"I just don't know how to get through to him." Sam said. "He's not well. Barely eats, barely sleeps, and every time I try to help; he just pushes me aside."

"It sounds like you two haven't really gotten to know each other." Steve said, clicking the one piece in place.

"I've tried to talk to him, but-"

"You're not listening." Steve looked at Sam. "You just have to listen."

A nurse approached them. "Mr. Rogers, it's time for your physical therapy." She said, taking the handles of his wheelchair.

"Listen to what?" Sam asked.

Steve nodded at the nurse, then looked back at Sam. "Him."

The nurse began to take him away.

"Wait, Steve- How do I-"

"Listen, Sam. Just listen." Steve said as he was taken away.

Sam sighed.

What the hell was that suppose to mean?

"He's old." He said, standing up and making his way to the front desk to check out.

///0///0

Sam came through the door of his home, wiping his feet on the mat in the small foyer.

It was raining outside.

He looked at the clock that hung from the wall.

10:34 pm

He removed his jacket and hung it on the the rack that was screwed into the wall. He took off his shoes and put them aside. He put his keys in a bowl that sat on a small table that was against the wall.

The house was quiet, like always.

He made his way into the openness of the house with a plastic bag that contained food in it, laying his eyes on the still broken table on the floor.

"Hm." He sighed. Looking to the left, he found the living area empty and dark.

Except for the tv. It was still displaying static.

Sam walked over to it, reaching for the remote. He happened to notice that there was light coming out from the bottom of Bucky's closed the door. He took out one of the boxes of food with some chopsticks and a fork, just in case, and walked over to Bucky's room. He knocked on it gently.

"Hey." He said softly.

There was no answer.

"I brought you some food. I don't know if you like Chinese, but I got you some lo mein. It's really good, in my opinion." Sam said, waiting for an answer.

Nothing.

"I'll just leave it at the door if you get hungry." He said, placing the box of food of the ground with the fork and chopsticks on top. He made his way back to couch and opened his own food, finally switching the tv to something other than static.