3 days passed since the last time you spoke to Bucky properly. He came in yesterday asking if Sam or Steve had sent a message or anything, you just shook your head in response not even looking at him. The worst part about all of this was that you could barely sleep. You couldn't get proper rest, you brain was in one place and your body was in another.
You were watching Tv as usual late at night struggling to sleep when you heard a thud from next door. You furrowed your eyebrows sitting up.What the hell? You got off your bed and grabbed your gun that was in your bag and tucked it in the waistband of your shorts.
You tiptoed to Bucky's room.
You knocked softly three times. No response. You knocked again but harder this time. Still nothing.
You opened the door slowly. Man he should've locked the door he's literally wanted. You saw Bucky on the far side of the bed sitting with his back to you. You saw the bedside table turned to the side and blood and dents in the wall. You bit your lip. "Barnes?" You said softly. He turned around seeing you.
"Y/N." He stood up.
"Are you ok?" You looked around the room again.
"Y-yeah of course." He nodded. "Clearly." He nodded faster.
"Barnes can you calm down?" You said.
"Yeah calm down." He scoffed. "How am I supposed to calm down when you fucking left for a stupid reason!" He shouted throwing his arms up and taking a step closer to you. You got a jump scared and thought he was going to hit you and instinctively pulled your gun out pointing it at him.
He froze. His eyes glistened. Only now did you notice his right knuckle bleeding, and his shirt lightly damp in blood around his shoulder area. He smiled turning away burying his face in his hands. You put your gun away.
"Barnes I-"
"Please don't." He said. "Don't call me that. Just don't speak to me at all."
"Well it is your fucking name isn't it?" You said.
He chuckled nodding "Funny isn't it."
"Bucky please calm down a-alright?" You took small steps towards him.
"It's alright, you're fine." You whispered.
"No it's not, no I'm not." He shook his head. "How scared do you have to be of me to pull a gun out on me? Hm?" He said. Well he actually did have a point, you did get pretty scared but that's a conversation for later.
He sat down onto the corner of his bed, crying.
Your breathe went shaky. "B-Bucky." You whispered making your way over to him.
You slowly sat down next to him. He looked down, tears trickling like small streams. You held his right hand. It was covered in blood. You drew small circles on the back of his hand, he breathed heavily letting out shaky sighs.
"Y/N I'm losing it," he whispered. Yep he definitely was. You noticed the red stained prints on his left shoulder. You furrowed your eyebrows. "What's that," your hand made it way to his shoulder but he stopped it.
"Dont." He sniffed "Please."
"James let go of my wrist." You said. He obeyed.
You traced the stains. "Take your shirt off."
He shook his head. "Take your shirt off." You repeated. You saw his knife next to his bag, you got up grabbing it. You cut the shirt from the back tearing it off. As sorry as you felt for the shirt he wouldn't have gotten it off in any other way. You threw it onto the floor along with the knife.
You walked in front of him and saw...
