The end of the line [Bucky Barnes]

Photographs

⚠️Smut Alert⚠️

***********

The small kitchen is filled with boxes and a few bags.
Bucky pushes a few boxes away from the bathroom door and opens the door.
Fresh water starts to pour from the faucet in the sink, and Bucky puts his head under it.
"God, it's already so hot." He groans, wetting his hair.
"Yeah, summer is close," Steve sighs, taking in another box.
"Where do you want me to leave this? There are books in it." He asks, looking around.

Bucky finally got an apartment, and now Steve is helping him move in.
"Just leave it in the kitchen. I've to assemble the bookshelf first." Bucky says, walking into the kitchen.
"Thanks for helping me. You didn't have to." Steve shrugs, giving him a pat on the shoulder.
"It's not a big deal." He says simply, putting on a bright smile.
"We don't have much free time, and spending it moving boxes isn't really ideal." Bucky scoffs, going for the fridge and opening it enough to stick in his hand.
He takes out two beers, flicks off the lids with his metal hand, and hands one to Steve.
The both of them crash on the sofa.

"Remember when we used to live together?" Steve asks, taking a sip from his beer.
Bucky chuckles and nods, "Yeah, in that filthy apartment in Flatbush."
"You managed to take home a new girl every day, even in that shack." Steve huffs, remembering how different they both used to be.
"Don't act like you didn't get a decent amount of good company too." Bucky banters, raising a brow at him.
Steve chuckles and nods in agreement, "Then out of nowhere, all the girls were gone, and the charismatic Bucky Barnes fell for the girl." Steve gibes, looking at him shaking his head.
"Punk," Bucky mutters, hitting him with his elbow before taking a swing of his beer.

"How's she doing?" Steve asks, turning to him.
Bucky sighs, recalling the last time he talked to her after their session.
"She is..." He hesitates, "she's still trying to figure out how to get over it." He says, his lips pressed together in a line.
Steve nods, "it must be hard. She has gone through a lot lately." Bucky sighs, putting the beer on the coffee table.
"Yeah, I just wish I could do something, help her." He confesses, looking down at his hand resting between his knees.

"There isn't much you can do besides having her back. This is something she needs to work out by herself." Steve states, knowing how frustrating this must be for his friend.
Bucky nods slowly and leans back in the sofa's cushion.
"I know, but her coping mechanisms have never been ideal. Remember how she used to bury herself in her studies when she had any kind of issues? She's still like this, but this time not even work can keep her head calm." He mumbles.
Steve doesn't respond, trying to find something to say.
"Don't let her alone. She's strong, but she needs someone she can trust, and who is better than you?" Steve speaks again, standing up.
"Yeah, that's the problem. I'm not sure I'm the right person for her right now. I don't know what to do. I don't want to make things worse." Bucky sighs, looking up at him.
"You won't. You're the only person she will let in." Steve says.

He looks at his phone, "I should go. I've to go get Nat. Her car died this morning." He adds, and Bucky stands up too.
"Nat, huh? Are you too up to something?" Bucky teases with a smirk.
"What? No, no. I'm just doing her a favor." Steve stutters, looking away as his face gets red.
"A favor, sure." Bucky scoffs, patting his shoulder.
Steve chuckles and shakes his head.
"Thanks, pal," Bucky says, hugging him.
"Anytime, Buck." He hugs him back.

Bucky puts the two bottles in the trash and starts opening some boxes.
He takes out some plates and glasses, displaying them on the table.
In another smaller box, there are some files, a couple of old photos, and sketchbooks from school.
He recovered a lot of stuff from his childhood thanks to Steve and some old family friends.
A framed photo of Helen is covered by paper.
She's wearing a flower dress, sitting on a bench in Central Park.
She's smiling at the camera, and a young smaller Steve on the back is trying to fix his shirt.
He takes out more stuff and finds another photo.
This time the both of them are in the picture, and they both are looking away, distracted by something.