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SORRY FOR BEING LATE TO THE PPL WHO ASKED ME FOR UPDATES A FEW DAYS AGO IT GOT COMPLICATED AND STUFF SO I TRIED. ALSO IF YOU SEE TYPOS THEN COMMENT WHERE YOU SEE THEM AND ILL FIX THEM I HATE TYPOS BUT I WATNED YALL TO GET THE CHAPTER AS SOON AS POSSIBLE SO. 

   "Sam? What are you doing here?" Bucky asked. "Shouldn't you be at- Are you okay?"

   Sam looked horrible. A large black eye and split lip adorned his face, along with a small smile that looked painful. His bottom lip had a red split through the side. "Yeah, man. I'm fine. Just a little beat up... How've you been?"

   Concern grew like a weed in Bucky's gut, watered by the exhausted look in Sam's eyes and the hunch of his shoulders. What the hell was he doing here instead of at work?

   "Um-?" Bucky started, but was cut short by Sam's tight hug. Taken by surprise, he reluctantly returned the hug with one arm. Alpine made a disgruntled noise, smushed between them, and Bucky pulled away. "I'm fine," he said, and heard Yelena scoff softly. She stood in the kitchen rummanging through Bucky's cabinets and drawers. 

   He hoped Sam didn't hear that.

   Sam took a look into the kitchen, and Yelena shot him an odd look. "Cool plant," Sam pointed at the peppermint on the ledge, and a smile grew on Bucky's face that he couldn't quite control.

   "Bucky, do you have any brown sugar? Dried cranberries? Walnuts?" She asked.

   "There are walnuts in the cabinet above your head, brown sugar is beside it in the white container. I don't have dried cranberries."

   "Thanks!"

   "Sam, what's going on?" Bucky asked, stepping around Sam and walking into the living room. He lifted Alpine to plant a kiss on her head. "Why are you here?"

   Sam gestured at Bucky's kitchen. "I brought over some of Sarah's leftovers. And don't worry, AJ and Cass are eating enough, and their school friends. So many questions," Sam muttered, before freezing on the spot. 

   Bucky frowned. "What is it?"

   Sam pointed at the white, thin sheet that Bucky hadn't picked up from behind the couch. "What. Is. That?" 

   Trying to steer Sam away from that spot, Bucky plastered a fake-as-crap smile on his face. "That's nothing, just me not doing the laundry neatly enough, y'know? That one dropped."

   "Did it? For a dropped piece of laundry, it really spread out a lot. What's with that?" Sam gave him a dead-serious glare, one that Bucky had seen way too much of by now. He shifted uncomfortably, the part of him that wanted to lie at war with his honest side. "Because that's bullshit."

      "Sam! I'm just not used to the bed. It doesn't feel right, and I even tried for a week! Remember the time I showed up at Sarah's, sleep-deprived?" Bucky plopped down on his couch, eyes on Sam.

   "I knew it." He glared, but Bucky's words seemed to pacify Sam slightly. He sat next to him, clasping his hands together.  "As long as you're sleeping, I guess."

  "You're not my mom, but... I appreciate your concern."

  "Sure. What have you been up to this week?"

  "Not much," he said, and it was true. Other than the usual ghosts in his mind, not much had been disturbed over the last few days. "We watched Interstellar last night."

   "Oh, and you liked it? I think I saw that one." 

   "Yeah, it was good,"

   "You've got that grin on your face again, Buck. You doing okay? No fever?" Bucky swatted his hand away and felt the smile fade. "This isn't normal,"

   "No fever." If Sam found out why he was beaming, he wouldn't hear the end of it from that annoying little-

   "Sam, what kind of food is it that you brought? You didn't say." Yelena broke in, setting two bowls with a spoon sticking out of each one on the dining table. She had sprinkled brown sugar and crushed walnuts over the Cream of Wheat in each one. 

   "Seafood, mostly, that's why I stuck it straight in that barren desert of a fridge when I got here,"

   She sat beside Bucky on the couch and petted Alpine's head, while Bucky petted her belly. The cat stretched and purred loudly on Bucky's lap. "Makes sense." 

   "How's work goin', Buck?"

   He shrugged. "Smoothly, though I think it's gotting too easy for me." 

   Sam chuckled. "I bet the super muscles help,"

   The easy physical activity wasn't the problem... It was more the fact that Bucky was bored at work. He wasn't challenged in any way by his current line of work, besides social anxiety, which was emproving slowly but surely. But he nodded, not bothering to reply. Alpine arched her back and her tiny claw sunk into his wrist. It felt sickeningly familiar-

   He gritted his teeth, gently peeling her paw off to reveal a few half-inch long streaks of blood that got smudged on his skin by her fur. 

  Letting out a soft sigh, Bucky got up and cleaned the blood off in the bathroom, quick and jarring images searing into his mind. He took deep breaths and met his own eyes in the mirror, heart throbbing. A dark room around him, his blood spilling. Sharp features of a man who held a dagger above him, hovering it millimeters from his bare back. 

   "No, no no-" Bucky felt the bathroom tiles against his back, and he sank down to the floor beside the toilet. The dagger touched his skin, sending a bone-chilling shiver down his spine. He was restrained, he couldn't move-  The dagger sunk into his skin and he could barely feel anything, but he knew he'd feel the wound soon. It always hurt, even when he was used to the pain. 

   Slowly, he realized that his back wasn't exposed. He wasn't restrained. There was no knife in his back. He was at home. Bucky was too tired to kick the door closed for privacy. He tried to slow his breathing, but it felt almost impossible.

  Having been scratched by his cat so many times since he got her five weeks ago, Bucky wasn't sure why it suddenly triggered him like this. He had the scars to prove it. Could it have been a chain reaction set off by the events of last week?

  Alpine's little scratches were frequent. Bucky hardly ever payed attention to them, but now it was the only think he could see and feel, the poingant smell of fresh blood in his nostrils. "It's just a scrape, Bucky..." he whispered to himself. "They won't hurt you again."   

    Bucky pulled himself off the floor and saw his red eyes in the mirror. He sighed.

    Why is this happening to me?

   He didn't even understand his own mind, even with therapy and writing down everything he felt, everything he saw. His own brain was like a jigsaw, and he wanted more than anything to fit the pieces together, but the pieces were scattered and hidden from view. They randomly showed when he expected it least. 

   A muffled noise tickled the back of his mind. As he turned toward the sound, the door opened wider. He went still.

   Sam stood behind Yelena, a concerned look in his eyes. 

   Immediately focusing on her, Bucky crossed his arms. His red eyes would give it all away, and there was nothing he could do to hide from his friends now, anyways. They were too attentive, especially Yelena. But she understood him.

   Her gaze flicked down to his bloodstained, uncleaned wrist, then to his eyes. 

   Confused about why they were even here, Bucky asked, "What is it?" Why were they here in his room? 

   Yelena's expression softened as if she had some great revelation. He wanted to know what she was thinking about. "You've been in here for twenty minutes, and we were worried." She said.

   He blinked, and ran a hand down his face. "Oh. I'm sorry, I-"

   She frowned, stepping closer. Her face was lit up with an intense look. "Don't do that, Bucky. Don't apologize." And then she wrapped her arms around him toghtly, throwing him off guard and clinging to him.

  He wasn't sure if his legs could still hold him up. He couldn't feel his knees. Bucky grabbed the door with one hand for suport, the other instinctively hugging her back. Not thinking about it, he curled his head down and squeezed her close gently. 

   All his cares fell away and he didn't even notice, he just needed to be held. She squeezed him back, making him feel grounded. This was the oposite of butterflies, it was a firm trust that things would be okay. 

   Bucky softly laughed. "I never thought I'd be free from Hydra... But even after all this time, it's followed me around. Like I'll never be free." His throat hurt from the heavy emotion behind his words, and some part of him was screaming don't be vulnerable. 

   Vulnerability used to mean exposing yourself and being pried open, torn apart from the inside by people who you belong to. It was something that didn't come naturally to him. 

   But here he was. Now, it had a new meaning. 

   "Ahem." Bucky jumped, and his cheeks flushed as him and Yelena pulled away from each other to see Sam standing there awkwardly. "You're not alone, man." He said, a hand on Bucky's shoulder. 

   Bucky was tempted by an irrational urge to pull away from Sam's hand, but he just nodded.

   A new though occurred to him. "Uh..." Sam raised an eyebrow at the uncertain sound that came from Bucky. "How long were you standing here?" he asked.  

   "Only a moment. We just got here... It looked like you were ignoring us."

   Bucky's heart dropped. "You were watching me?" He suddenly felt self-conscious, and a little too exposed. 

   "We called your name when you were looking in the mirror," Yelena told him. 

   Bucky vaguely remembered a muffled noise at the back of his mind. He cut between them and re-entered the bathroom, ran cold water over his wound, and felt a brief sting sparkling inder his skin. It was barely a pinprick compared to when he had grown used to. 

   But the feel of anything sliding under his skin, that was a different kind of pain...

   A few moments earlier

   Sam and Bucky made idle conversation for a few minutes, Yelena cutting in every once and a while. It was calm. Bucky was relaxed, something that, to be honest, she could get addictaed to seeing. They both stroked Alpine's fur. His skin grazed his, and Bucky gave her a wuick glance with the smallest smile that could've meant just about anything.

   She found it hard to take her eyes off of him, so when his face paled, she noticed right away and knew something wasn't right. 

   He carefully detatched Alpine's soft paw from his arm to show blood, then got up to clean it off. It shouldn't have been a big deal, but she had a bad feeling in her gut about it. She dismissed the general feeling as she chatted aimlessly with Bucky's friend, the minutes adding up, and when it got awkward, Bucky was still gone. 

   Checking the time, she muttered, "It's been too long."

   "What's he doing?" Sam asked, standing from the couch. 

   "I think I should check on him," she replied, heading for Bucky's room. "You can just-"

   "I can just what? Sit on the couch and wait? I'm not doing that."

   She sighed, and knocked softly on the slightly open door. There was no answer. 

  "Does he ever use that bed?" she heard Sam grumble to himself.

   "No," Yelena whispered, deciding to end his pain in not knowing the answer.

   "Why are we whispering?"

   "I... don't know." She crossed the room with Sam trailing behind her and taking in the bookshelves, desk, and messy bed littered with books and clothes. Had he never been in here?

   The bathroom door was open, and she saw movement. Her view of Bucky... didn't look good. His eyes were red and his breathing looked way too fast. He stared straight ahead at the mirror, as if he were a great mystery he'd never solve. Streaks of tears were drying on his skin. 

   "Bucky?" You okay?" Yelena asked softly, nearing the door.

  His fists clenched, and his gaze intesified. She gulped. Blood still ran down his wrist.

  "Bucky?" Sam demanded, half behind her. "Bucky!"

   Bucky's stare became more contemplative. "Bucky, are you okay?" She asked more forcefully, pressing closer, until he suddenly turned and stared at Sam, then her. 

   Her body itched to hug him tightly. She felt her finger twitch. His eyes widened in something that resembled fear or shock, then he just looked so lost and confused. 

   It was obvious why.

   "You've been in here for twenty-five minutes," she uttered. Bucky face paled for the second time, running his fingers down his face.

   "I'm sorry," he said, his voice hoarse and scratchy-sounding. "I just-" 

   He looked so lonely and there was a faraway look in his eyes. She knew just what would bring him back. Yelena threw her arms around him firmly, feeling his body shift backward, and didn't let go. She felt his hand glide over her back as he reached to hugged her back, then tighten against her in a gentle squeeze. A thank-you. 

   She lost her breath for a second, in his tight embrace. Not because it was too tight, no, she could stay like this forever. But because it was so right. Her heart thudded in her ears as he buried his head in her shoulder, leaning down over her. 

   He felt unsteady, but clung to her as if... As if she were his childhood, the one he wished he could get back.

   And maybe she was wrong about this. One thing she'd never get wrong was the fact that what they had was different.

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- Ems