Little Secrets, Little Bucky

It's Okay To Ask For Help

Bucky woke up screaming, tears running down his face and chest heaving so fast he thought his heart might beat out of his chest. Once he realized where he was and that he was in a safe place he relaxed, but it only lasted for a moment. Tears welled up in his eyes all over again when he felt the wet sheets beneath him and realized that it had happened again. He almost went straight to Y/n's room, longing for the understanding that she used to provide when this happened while he was little. But he wasn't little this time, so there was no guarantee he'd receive the comfort he was looking for, and he couldn't risk running into Steve or Sam in the common area while he was still in wet clothes.

Still, hadn't she promised that she would help? Hadn't she held him tight and swore she'd always come when he called?

Fragments of memory swirled through his mind.

1923, wet sheets strung up outside the house for everyone to see, angry faces and harsh scolding from his parents. "Honestly James, you're too old for this to be happening."

1938, drinking too much and wetting his date's bed, shame burning his cheeks while he cleaned up alone. "Seriously? We're not children, Bucky."

Unknown year, waking up screaming and little, frantically trying to hide the evidence from Sarkissian and failing. "How did I ever get stuck with an icky little thing like you? You're disgusting."

10 months ago, Y/n ran to him and in his panic, he called her Mama for the first time. "You can always wake me up when you need me."

6 months ago, being cuddled close by his mama after she cleaned him up. "It's alright baby, accidents happen. Mama's not mad at you."

In an act of pure impulse, he asked Jarvis to wake Y/n. His brain was so scrambled he didn't know what else to do, and before long he was desperately trying to breathe correctly as his panic set in yet again. He put his head in his hands and felt tears of shame and fear burning in his eyes. He willed them to go away, telling himself it was bad enough that he had wet the bed. He was certainly not about to cry about it like a child. But everything felt so overwhelming, and a few escaped before he could stop them. He wrapped his arms around himself tightly, fingers dug into his side, and he distantly realized that he'd have bruises in the morning.

"Buck? Jarvis said you called for me," Y/n said, stepping into his bedroom and stopping in her tracks when she saw him. He was just sitting there, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. There were tear tracks on his face, and she knew immediately what had happened. She didn't bother to ask, not wanting him to feel any more embarrassed than he clearly already was. Instead she grabbed an empty laundry basket from his closet and walked over, gently prying his fingers away from his sides.

She pulled him into her arms, hugging him tight while he hid his face in her stomach. "It's okay," she said quietly. "You're alright angel." She felt his breath hitch as the nickname escaped her lips and held him a little tighter as sobs began to force their way out of his mouth.

Bucky couldn't stop crying, cheeks burning red as he tried his best to halt the tears with no results. He was simply too worked up, too terrified to hold it all in. But Y/n wasn't angry. She wasn't scolding him or telling him to get it together. She was steady and kind, just like always.

"I'm so sorry," he cried, unable to let go of her for fear that she would disappear. "I didn't mean to."

"Shhhh," she soothed, running a hand through his hair. "There's nothing to apologize for."

She held him until his heartbreaking sobs had slowed to sniffles, and she could feel his breathing returning to normal. He closed his eyes as she pulled back and held his face in her hands, pressing a kiss to his forehead with care. "I'm gonna take care of you," she said softly.