Steve's story is a lot to take in, and in the end, Bucky doesn't end up asking him about his doctor's appointments that night. He's fairly certain that the two must be related somehow, but by the time he lays out his bedding on the couch, he is emotionally drained, and ready to sleep. He's half expecting nightmares that night, thanks to his work with BARF and then his emotional discussion with Steve, but he actually sleeps rather soundly.

…That is, until he gets woken up in the middle of the night.

At first, he's not exactly sure what it is that wakes him, his eyes blinking awake and staring confusedly into the darkness, seemingly without reason. He sits in silence for a moment and stares into the dark, trying to figure out what had disturbed him. At first, he doesn't hear anything, and he turns his head to check the time on the TV stand, but he freezes as his ears pick up on the faint, quiet sound of a ragged breath from the other room.

He is on instant high alert, and he sits up, turning his head to look over towards Steve's bedroom. Ever since he had started to remember himself, Steve had made a habit of closing his door a little more, but there is still a sliver of open space that keeps the door from being fully closed, and Bucky stares at it as he strains his ears, waiting to hear the sound again.

A thin gasp reaches him, and he winces internally, his stomach clenching at the sound. A series of sudden coughs follows, and then a few more gasps for air, and he's already standing and making his way to the room before he can even process them, let alone think through his actions.

He still feels some habitual nerves as he reaches up to push open Steve's door, but he ignores them, his mind mostly focused on the absolutely dreadful breathing of his friend, and the even more terrifying silences that stretch between each breath.

The door opens silently, and he eases himself into the room, flicking his eyes around in a perimeter scan as he tries to keep his own breathing under control and figure out what is going on. The light is dim, but there is enough streetlight shining in through Steve's window for him to see that his friend is still laid out on his bed, rather than on the floor like he had sometimes been before.

The blankets of the bed look tangled, like someone has been thrashing around in them, but Steve himself is strangely still, his body almost rigid as his chest moves erratically with his breaths. Bucky stares at him, suddenly uncertain as to what he's supposed to do now. He'd come in, full of determination, but now that he's faced with the scene in front of him, he's at a loss.

On the bed, Steve jerks suddenly, his one hand coming up for a moment and waving as if trying to push something away, before it jerks back down and Steve breaks into a new bout of coughing. Bucky swallows uneasily and edges closer to the bed so that he can see Steve better as he gasps for air, his friend's eyes squeezed shut as his head twitches, his jaw clenching.

He's dreaming, Bucky realises abruptly, the recognition cold in his stomach. Steve is having a nightmare.

In front of him, Steve's teeth suddenly start to chatter, and he gasps with ragged desperation, holding his breath as he jerks his face to the side and shivers. Bucky, meanwhile, feels his stomach drop down into his toes as he realises what Steve is dreaming about.

He had thought – hadn't he – that Steve's period in the ice had been eerily similar to his own cryofreeze experience. But, there is one thing about cryofreeze that he hadn't thought to be grateful about until now. Cryofreeze is at least fast. Looking down on Steve, he thinks that Steve's experience had been anything but.

On the bed, Steve's teeth continue to chatter as he fights for air, and Bucky stands in frozen indecision. He's never had to deal with something like this before, and he can't remember ever having to deal with it in any of his flashbacks before either.

Steve's nightmare is horrible to watch, and his instincts scream at him to try to wake him up. But he baulks a little at the thought. He's never done this before, nor has he ever had it done to him, so he's not exactly sure how to go about it. But Steve is actually holding his breath between gasps, like he actually thinks he's drowning, and Bucky isn't about to let him keep doing that.

He steps up next to Steve on the bed and hesitates for a moment before reaching out to place his hand on Steve's knee, deciding that it's a safer position than trying to shake his shoulders, should Steve wake up on the defensive. Steve doesn't react to him grabbing his knee, so Bucky sucks in a breath and jostles his leg gently.

"Steve," he says, starting off quietly. "Steve, wake up." Steve flinches, but doesn't open his eyes, his face remaining tensed as he shivers and sucks in another desperate lungful of air, his body jerking with tension as he shivers. Beside him, Bucky presses his lips together and shakes Steve's leg a little harder this time. "Steve," he tries again, raising his voice slightly. "You're dreaming. Wake up."

Steve's eyes snap open with a gasp, and he immediately starts coughing, curling to the side slightly, as though he is actually trying to expel water from his lungs. Bucky watches a little helplessly as Steve's leg moves out from under his hand, and Steve gasps for air, still shivering as he coughs.

The sound of Steve's laboured breathing makes Bucky's stomach clench uncomfortably— because the breathing is important— and he's grateful when, after a few moments, his breathing starts to get a little more regulated, his friend no longer trying to cough up water that isn't there.

He's still shaking and breathing heavily though, even when he finally sits up to look at him, his hand running through his hair as if that will somehow help put him back together again. He flicks his eyes over him and breathes, sitting almost frozen on his bed— like a deer busy hoping that the hunter hasn't actually seen him yet, and that maybe, he can just slowly sneak away.

"Are… you alright?" Bucky asks, finally breaking the silence between them and scanning his eyes over Steve, noting the lingering unevenness of his breaths and the way his hands clutch at the blankets under him.

In front of him, Steve swallows. "Yeah," he says, the rough sound of his voice not doing much to support his claim. Bucky finds himself raising an eyebrow, and Steve shifts, his head moving as he looks down. For his part, Bucky grits his teeth and curses the dark room, because it's making it difficult to read Steve's face, and his friend doesn't seem inclined to talk to him. Still, he can tell just by looking that Steve's nightmare has shaken him, and he's not about to leave him to deal with it alone.

Steve breathes in and looks up at him, his face determinedly stoic, but before he can say anything, Bucky makes his decision and reaches down, tugging at the blankets, straightening them and pulling them out to make space. "Move over," he says, looking up at Steve as he holds the blankets.

Steve stares at him, stunned into silence for a moment, before he opens his mouth. "Bucky," he starts. "You don't have to—"

"Shut up," Bucky says, cutting him off, his hands tightening on the blankets as he clenches his jaw, holding Steve's gaze determinedly, his heart speeding up as it quietly freaks out at his stubbornness. "Let me take care of you for once." The words come out a little harsher than he wants, but they seem to do the trick because Steve closes his mouth, and, after a second of staring at him, he shifts over so that he's closer to the middle of the bed.

Bucky nods in approval, and lifts the blankets a little higher so that he can slip underneath too, shuffling so that he ends up shoulder to shoulder with Steve, their legs laying next to each other under the covers. For his part, Steve seems to be mostly in shock, letting Bucky take the lead as he sits, his breath still plagued with the occasional stutter and shiver.

Bucky's lips press together at the sound and his chest squeezes with such an intense emotion that he doesn't even think twice as he reaches up and puts his arm around Steve's shoulder, pulling him down into a close hug.

Steve moves with him easily, as if he isn't quite following what is happening, and he sits stiffly for a few seconds, his head pressed against Bucky's chest, the sound of their breathing the only thing filling the room around them. Then, as though a switch flips inside him, Steve sort of…melts, his face pressing into Bucky's chest as if it is the only thing grounding him, and his hand coming up to clutch at his shirt.

Bucky swallows thickly and squeezes Steve's shoulder, blinking rapidly as he stares in front of himself and tries to process the amount of feelings he seems to be having at the moment. He can't remember if he and Steve have ever done this before… but he supposes it doesn't matter, because they do it now, and that is really all that matters.

Steve shudders next to him, and Bucky's tongue presses into the roof of his mouth as he thinks over the nightmare he had witnessed. He supposes he shouldn't have been surprised that Steve might dream about his ordeal after they had spent so long talking about it, but seeing Steve be so… rattled by it had been… jarring.

Let me take care of you for once, he'd said, and he'd meant it. He hadn't really thought about it before, but ever since Steve had become his handler, Steve had been working constantly on making sure that his needs were fulfilled as well as possible. Steve had been with him every step of the way as he'd worked on recovering from Hydra, and Steve had been to willing put aside everything to accommodate to him as much as possible and to help him in every way he could.

But who had been looking after Steve during all of it?

Bucky shifts to hold Steve better and thinks it over. Stark had obviously had his eye on Steve. They'd talked about how Steve had been… having difficulty when he'd first arrived at the tower (and now that Bucky knows that that had been soon after Steve had been unfrozen, he understands better). The other Avengers too, seemed to look out for their Captain as much as possible. Natasha had been paying enough attention to know when Steve was bothered by Bucky's struggles, and Clint had once been visibly troubled by Steve's obsessive work in the gym.

But even with his friends looking after him, Steve had still been bearing the brunt of Bucky's recovery, and he imagines that it hadn't always been easy.

Plus, there was the fact that something is still going on with Steve. He still goes to the doctor's regularly and is obviously still affected by his time in the ice, and Bucky's stomach clenches at the idea that something might be wrong with Steve, despite his serum.

He looks down so that he can see the top of Steve's head and brings up his other arm so that he has Steve completely encircled, his entire body determined to make up for lost time and go back to protecting Steve as much as he is able. The patch of his shirt under Steve's eyes grows slightly damp, and he pretends, for both their sakes, that he doesn't notice.

They sit like that for a while, silent except for their breaths, warm and safe in their self-made cocoon. They sit until Steve starts to relax, settling and turning his face so that he's resting easily against Bucky, his eyes bright. He breathes in and lets out a sigh, deep and cleansing, like he's letting go of a mountain load of care, and Bucky finds himself relaxing at the sound.

He softens his grip on Steve, although he doesn't pull away, and he leans his head back against the headboard behind them. Steve's head moves subtly along with his chest as he breathes, and after a moment, Steve reaches for the edge of the blanket, pulling it up and fiddling with it a little, his own breathing even and slow as he ducks his head slightly.

"I missed you."

The words are so quiet that despite being right next to Steve, Bucky might not have heard them without his serum enhanced hearing.

He looks down, and Steve's head is angled towards the blanket, his eyes hidden from view. He tightens his arms just slightly around him. "I missed you too," he says, the words settling like rocks into the silence of the room. Steve swallows, and his head presses backwards into his chest a little, as though returning the hug, and Bucky goes back to looking ahead of himself.

In all honesty, he'd probably be content to sit like this forever. It feels like he's actively repairing something right now, and he can't remember the last time he'd felt so relaxed. He doesn't know what time it is exactly, but the dark sky outside Steve's window shows that it's still late at night, if not very early in the morning, but even the darkness of the room is calming in its own way. Despite his desire to simply sit with Steve though, the whole episode has reignited his worry over Steve, and the more he thinks about it, the more he feels the pressing urge to break down and ask about it.

He doesn't know if now is exactly the right time to ask, but he figures that right now they both seem relatively open to each other, and Steve can always refused to answer if he truly doesn't want to, so he might as well try.

He shifts, looking back down towards Steve's hair, and breathes in. "I never asked you," he starts quietly, trying to ease into the question. "If everything was okay with you, after the ice."

Steve stills a little at his words, but at least he doesn't tense, and Bucky waits as patiently as he can while Steve thinks over his question, his gaze focused on the blanket in his hand. After a moment he shifts, curling his legs under himself and tugging on the blanket a little. "I'm alright," he says, his voice hushed in the dark room. "I came out of the ice completely healthy, didn't even have any of the injuries from the crash." He swallows and picks at the blanket. "I just get nightmares about it sometimes."

Bucky swallows and flicks his eyes over his friend. He doesn't want to even think about what injuries Steve is referencing, and the rest of what Steve had said doesn't help him much. It still doesn't explain what is happening with Steve now. "You…" He squeezes a little at Steve's shoulder and tries to come up with a good way to say what he's asking. "You still go to the doctor… a lot," he says finally, his eyes on Steve's hair.

His hair is mostly grey in the dim light, but it glints silver as he moves his head and shifts back to look at him. Bucky immediately lets his arm loosen, just in case Steve wants to pull away, but he doesn't, only shifting so that he can rest his head higher on his shoulder, his fingers still on the blanket. "I guess… I did put it that way," he says after a moment. "I forgot."

Bucky blinks in confusion, and next to him, Steve sighs, his eyes focused somewhere across the room. "I do go to the doctor a lot," he admits, his fingers massaging the blanket as he speaks. "But it's… it's a different kind of doctor. Called a therapist."

"A therapist?" Bucky repeats, unsure what to make of the word.

Steve nods. "Yeah," he breathes, before clearing his throat and resettling himself. "It's…" He purses his lips. "It's like a doctor for your brain I guess." Before Bucky can go off in a spiral of concern over Steve's brain, his friend continues. "Not that there's anything physically wrong with my brain, I don't think," he reassures. "It's more like…" He looks up at him. "Do you remember… during the war, sometimes soldiers would get sent home because they had battle fatigue, or shell shock?"

Bucky nods slowly. He doesn't remember it exactly, but as Steve speaks, his mind flashes back to the scene of Steve under the tree with the empty look on his face, and, even more vaguely, he thinks that JARVIS might have once, long ago, mentioned the terms to him.

Beside him, Steve shifts a little and looks back down at the blankets. "It's kind of like that," he says. "They've researched it more now, after seventy years, and it's called Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD." He swallows and takes in a breath. "Basically… when someone goes through something traumatic, like war, or abuse, or a disaster, their brain…" He waves a hand. "It's like their brain is hurt, just like any other injury. And so, they might have nightmares, or flashbacks, or other things that mess with their life."

Bucky nods as Steve speaks, and part of him can't help thinking that a lot of what Steve is saying matches up with him too, and, now that he thinks of it, if Steve has this… PTSD, then that might explain why he'd known how to help him during some of his worse flashbacks and episodes. He finds himself holding Steve a little tighter at the thought. He's glad Steve had been able to help him but… he doesn't like the idea of Steve having nightmares and flashbacks like him.

"Anyway," Steve continues. "There's things you can do to help treat and cope with PTSD. Sam actually helped me a lot in figuring it out." There is a smile in his voice as he speaks. "That was his job before he came here, you know, and the therapist I go see helps me manage my… my PTSD."

Steve breathes out, and Bucky works on processing what he'd been told. "So you're not sick," he says finally, relaxing a little.

Steve lets out a little laugh, and shrugs his shoulders. "That depends on how you look at it," he says. "But I'm not dying or anything. Just… working on some stuff."

Bucky nods slowly as he takes in everything. He doesn't exactly know what to think about Steve's PTSD. He's glad that Steve doesn't seem to be sick like he'd used to get, but he has a feeling that PTSD isn't that great either. It is probably a good thing that Steve is going to a therapist then. "Your therapist helps you?" He confirms, looking down at Steve.

Steve nods against his chest. "Yeah," he says easily. "I was nervous to go at first… but Jason's really helped me. We mostly talk, but he gives me ideas for coping mechanisms, or helps me recognise unhealthy patterns that I've fallen into."

Bucky's eyes narrow slightly at the words 'coping mechanism' because he distinctly remembers Stark mentioning having those before, when they had been talking about Howard's death. He wonders if Stark also has a therapist of sorts. Hadn't… hadn't he said that he talked to someone too?

Next to him, Steve shifts, and Bucky's attention gets drawn back to him. "You know," he says slowly. "I bet there's resources out there that could help you too." Bucky blinks in surprise and Steve resumes his picking at the blanket. "Sam asked me once, if I wanted to look into getting a therapist for you," he admits. "That was only a few days after you'd come to the Tower, and I was worried that you wouldn't understand what was happening. I wasn't sure you were ready for something like that." He shifts to look up at him. "I didn't…" He bites his lip. "I was doing my best Buck, but I don't always know the best way to help you." His fingers press into the blanket. "If you want, I think it might be a good idea to talk to Sam about this sort of thing."

Bucky swallows and thinks over what Steve had said. While he doesn't know how he would have reacted to one of these therapist people, since he doesn't exactly know what talking to one of them is like, he can remember how he had been deeply suspicious of everything when he'd first come to the Tower. He's only now beginning to even process the fact that what Hydra had done to him had been wrong, so he doubts he would have worked very well with a therapist before.

As for getting one now… He doesn't know how he feels about that. He's opened up to a few of the Avengers – Romano– Natasha especially – but he doesn't know how he would feel about doing that with a stranger. Still… therapists seem to have helped Steve – and possibly Stark, so it might be a good idea to look into it, especially if he wants to work on being comfortable with being, well, Bucky.

"I'll think about it," he concedes, and Steve nods easily against him.

"You can ask me if you have any questions," he says. "Or you could always ask Sam or JARVIS. They know a lot about it."

Bucky nods and makes a mental note to look more into what Steve had been talking about. It sounds like something important to follow up on. They lapse back into silence after that, but it isn't an uncomfortable one. Bucky keeps his hold on Steve just loose enough that his friend can pull away if he wants too, but otherwise he doesn't move.

oOo

He hadn't expected either of them to fall asleep again, but they seem to have, because he wakes up to the sound of Steve's alarm and the sun streaming in through his window. Steve rolls instinctively to turn off the alarm, tugging the blanket with him, and Bucky pulls it back, still half-asleep.

He wakes up fully at Steve's chuckle, and he blinks in surprise, squinting around the room as he tries to get his bearings. "Good morning," Steve says, sitting up and running a hand through his bedhead. Bucky huffs and sits up too, his eyes on Steve. Considering the circumstances, his friend looks surprisingly well rested, which Bucky considers to be a victory.

Steve seems to think so too, because he glances over. "You know," he says as he moves to push the blanket off his legs. "I think that's the best I've ever slept after a nightmare."

Bucky moves to get out of bed as well, stretching and rolling his shoulders a few times, his left one giving a twinge as he moves. "Me too," he admits.

It is also, he realises as he makes his way towards the door and leaves Steve to get dressed, the first time he's slept in a bed. Well. First time that he can remember. He's sure he must have slept in one before Hydra, but he hasn't slept in one for a really, really long time.

It was pleasant actually, he thinks as he heads over to his dresser to get dressed. It's his day to make breakfast, so he goes through his morning routine quickly, before heading over to the kitchen and taking his pain medication.

Steve comes out while he's busy getting pancake batter ready, and he doesn't know exactly what it is, but something seems to have finally settled between them. It's probably a combination of Steve telling him about his death, and their heart-to-heart last night, but Bucky can honestly say that he feels fully comfortable now with Steve. Of course, he'd felt comfortable with him before… but now, there is an understanding between them that hadn't been there before.

He smiles as he turns on the stovetop and prepares to make the first pancake, his metal arm whining slightly as he moves. Behind him, Steve goes about setting the table and getting out condiments. Something about Steve seems to have settle too. He can't actually put his finger on what it is, but Bucky gets the feeling that both of them had reached an important milestone last night.

"Hey, I was thinking," Steve speaks up as Bucky flips a cooked pancake and goes to pour a new one. He looks up to let Steve know he's listening and Steve fiddles slightly with a knife in front of him. "Well, I was thinking," he says again, clueing Bucky into the fact that he's slightly nervous about what he's going to say. "Have you thought about maybe visiting Hannah sometime?"

Bucky's eyes widen slightly in surprise, and he's quick to turn back to his pancakes, using the distraction to give him a few moments to think. He… for some reason the idea hadn't actually crossed his mind before now. It's possible that some part of him, despite his best efforts, still doesn't feel Bucky enough… But for whatever reason, even though he'd been happily to learn that one of his sisters had survived, he hadn't actually thought about doing something about it.

"Do… do you think she'd want to see me?" He asks Steve, his stomach flipping along with his pancake. He may remember Hannah now, but he's still certain that he isn't the man she had known, and he probably will never be like he used to be. So, for all he knows, it might just be a kindness to leave her in the dark about what he had become—

"Of course she will," Steve says without hesitation, and Bucky finds himself looking up at him, his eyes searching. Steve offers him a small smile, a glint of sadness in his eyes. "I'm sure she'd just be happy to know you're alive, Buck," he says.

Bucky goes back to flip his pancakes and pour in the last of the batter, thinking over Steve's words as he works. Now… now that he can remember how it had felt when he'd thought that Steve had died… he has to admit that what Steve says makes sense.

"I don't know if I told you…" Steve continues as Bucky waits for the pancakes to cook through. "But Peggy is alive too." He smiles as Bucky gives him a surprised glance, before going back to his work. "She's living in a retirement home in D.C.," he explains, before seeming to trail off for a moment. "If you wanted, you could visit her too," he says quietly. "But she… she has something called dementia, so, sometimes she doesn't remember much."

Bucky flips the last of the pancakes onto the waiting plate, before turning off the stove and turning back to Steve with the food. "Sounds like we'd be a pair," he says wryly, and Steve laughs.

"I did think it was a little morbidly poetic," he admits as he settles down at the table and makes space for the plate of pancakes. "But I've visited her a few times now. She has good days where she remembers pretty well."

There's a look in Steve's eyes that let's Bucky know how the days when she hadn't remembered had gone, and he presses his lips together as he waits for Steve to fill his plate, before grabbing his fill. "I think…" he says slowly, after they'd been eating for a few minutes. "I don't know if I'm ready yet, to visit them, but…" He shrugs his shoulders sheepishly. "I think I'd like that, eventually."

Steve smiles as he takes a bite of his pancake, and Bucky finds himself reflecting the grin right back at him.

AN: I always though in the MCU that we never got a proper emotional reunion between Bucky and Steve. We never got to seem them be properly comfortable with each other because they never got the time to talk on screen, and we never got to see them together when they weren't trying to fight something.

Anyway, in this chapter Bucky finally learns about Steve's PTSD and the true nature of his doctor's appointments, and he also gets to understand how that relates to himself, as well as start thinking about his future decisions about his family.