Little Secrets, Little Bucky

A Little Secret

"Hey Buck, I'm home for lunch!" Y/n stepped out of the elevator into the kitchen, setting the take out on the table, "I don't know if you're hungry but I thought we could eat-" Her words were cut off by the sight of her stoic best friend curled up on the couch sound asleep. That wasn't what was unusual though, at least not compared to the small blue blanket he was clutching to his body and his thumb tucked into his mouth. And was that Sesame Street playing on the TV?

He looked so young, so peaceful, and Y/n felt a pang of guilt at the fact that he clearly anticipated having the floor to himself today. Maybe she could sneak out unnoticed? She turned to leave but as she did she knocked over a pot of now cold hot chocolate that had been precariously placed on the counter. She cursed her own morning negligence as it crashed to the ground and spun to face Bucky, who had been startled awake.

"Hey Bucky," she said gently, clearly trying to keep him calm. But her soft tone just served to clue him in that she knew exactly what was going on. He panicked and tried to run past her into the safety of his suite, but in his small, frightened headspace he failed to see the puddle on the ground and slipped. That was the breaking point.

It was all just too much. She had seen him and she knew what he had been doing and his arm hurt and his tummy was wet and it was sticky and he wanted his blankie but he didn't know where it went and it was all just too much. He scooted backwards into the corner against the kitchen cupboards and began to cry, feeling overwhelmed and far too little to act like a grownup.

Y/n's heart broke in her chest as she watched the little boy in front of her curl up in a ball and cry out of sheer panic and fear as far out of sight as he could get. She went and retrieved the blanket that had fallen, relieved that it had somehow avoided the puddle of hot chocolate and approached him slowly, crouching down to his level. That last thing she wanted was to intimidate him, but he flinched as soon as she was within his eyeline.

"Bucky? Here sweetheart, do you want this?" She asked, holding the blanket out to him. He started to reach for it but quickly drew his hand back as though expecting to be punished. Her heart sank with the feeling that she was not the first to see this side of him, and that the others had not reacted well. "You can take it, honey. It's alright."

Bucky searched her face for any sign she was lying, any sign she might be trying to trick him, get him to take it so that she could have an excuse to hurt him, but found nothing. He knew better, but couldn't resist anymore. He reached out for the blanket, crying in relief when she let him take it and bury his face in it.

She let him sit for a while, clutching his blanket until his fearful sobs had evened out into sniffles and he raised his head to look at her. She smiled softly at him, "How 'bout we go get you cleaned up, little one? I bet that wet shirt doesn't feel too good."

Bucky knew that this was a bad idea, that he should just run into his suite and do it himself, but he was so little, and so tired, and all he wanted was to let someone else do it for once. Against his better judgment he nodded, still hiding most of his face with his blankie.

"C'mon then, let's get you situated," Y/n said, leading him into her bathroom to get a washcloth and having him sit on the counter. She grabbed a new t-shirt on the way in, blue with a navy stripe around the middle. "Can you get your shirt off or do you need help?"

The anxious little moved his blanket away from his face, clearly deciding if it was worth it to set his security item aside. The stickiness of his shirt won out though, and he placed it on the counter beside him, eyes flickering between the blanket and Y/n. She felt that familiar pang of sadness yet again as she realized that he was afraid of her taking it away. "It's alright, honey. I won't take your blankie away." She soothed, "You're safe with me."

He still wouldn't make eye contact with her as he peeled his soiled shirt off, but he allowed her to wipe the chocolate residue away from his stomach and help him into another shirt. She was being so gentle, and when she handed him his blankie after getting him dressed he couldn't help but cry all over again.

He flinched backwards when a sob forced its way out, trying to escape the hurt that he knew would come, it always did. But she didn't hit him or rip his blankie away like he thought she would. No, instead he heard her speaking in a soft tone, and tried as hard as he could to listen.

"It's alright Bucky. You don't have to hide," she said gently, "no one can hurt you here." He looked so frightened and she wondered if this was how it always was when he was little. The thought of him crying, little and all alone, broke her heart. Acting on instinct alone, she reached out and winced when he flinched violently at the feel of her hand on his shoulder. "I won't hurt you, I promise," she said patiently, "I just want to give you a hug."

A hug? She wanted to hold him? No one had hugged Bucky when he was little since, well ever. He was terrified, almost positive that it was a trick. But he looked up, making full eye contact with Y/n for the first time since she had woken him up and even through his tears saw nothing but sincerity and safety. He leaned in a little, trying to signal that he was ok with it, and she pulled him into her, surrounding him with security for what felt like the first time in his life, making him cry even harder. He buried his face in her neck, trying to memorize every detail of the hug so that he could remember it later, knowing that this had to be a one time thing.

Her arms tightened around him and she comforted him as she would any other child, cooing reassurance that probably didn't mean much of anything. She hushed his cries and rocked them both side to side, gently carding her fingers through his hair until his pitiful little sobs ran out and he was left there sniffling.

Even when the tears had stopped, she didn't let go like Bucky expected she would. She kept holding him and talking in a soft voice, more for the sound of it than anything else. The little boy clinging to her was obviously in desperate need of comfort and she was more than happy to provide it. She wasn't sure how long she stood there, humming and rocking him back and forth, but eventually his breathing evened out and a flick of her wristband confirmed that the little soldier had fallen asleep right on her shoulder.

She stood there for a while longer weighing her options. She definitely couldn't just stand in the bathroom until he woke up, her back and knees would likely never forgive her. But she didn't have the heart to wake him up and have him walk to the bed. She knew he had trouble sleeping already, and the fact that he felt safe enough to fall asleep on her felt sacred, like a fragile trust that she couldn't bear to break. That left one option. She adjusted her grips on him, slowly and carefully picking him up. He whined in protest at the change in position but quickly settled again as she spoke to him and swayed side to side. "Shhh little one, I've got you. Go to sleep."

She gently set him on the bed, but he didn't release his hold on her shirt. She tried to pry his hand away, only to be met with the saddest, sleepiest pair of eyes he'd ever given her. "Ok, I won't leave. I just need to get you settled, alright Buck?" He still didn't let go. "I promise honey, I'm not leaving you all alone. You're too little for that."

He reluctantly released her shirt, fighting to keep his eyes open as she got him under the covers, blankie clutched to his chest. But true to her word, she sat on the bed once he was settled and leaned back against the headboard. She had kept her promise. No one ever kept their promises to him. In all honesty he'd been expecting her to leave him as soon as he let go of her, but there she was just a few inches away from him, looking at him like he was something special.

Y/n saw him gazing at her, fighting to stay awake. There was longing written all over his face. "What's wrong sweetheart? You look so sleepy, why don't you take a nap?" He started forward, but stopped as though he was afraid. "You can come here if you want, It's alright." He was obviously starved for affection, the longer she spent around the little boy the more obvious it became that no one had ever bothered to show him any kind of love. She lifted her arm and he shuffled over letting out a contented sigh into his blanket that was still clutched tightly to him. She began rubbing his back and humming softly yet again and he quickly fell asleep.