Little Secrets, Little Bucky

What A Night

"Oh Sam," Steve breathed out, coming to sit beside him on the cold tile. He'd found his partner just moments earlier, curled up near the bathtub with tears streaming down his face. "What are you doing in here?"

"I didn't wanna bother you," he said quietly, fighting not to let sobs overtake him. "You're upset enough right now."

Steve felt guilt flood through him as he wrapped an arm around his partner. "You're not a bother," he whispered, pulling Sam to sit between his legs. "That's not how this is supposed to work." He pressed a kiss to his temple and felt Sam shake with a barely suppressed sob. "You don't have to be strong all the time. I've got you."

"But-"

"No," Steve interrupted Sam's protests. "This is no different than when you have panic attacks or nightmares. You don't have to suffer all alone. That's why I'm here." He ran a hand up and down his partner's back, knowing Sam was reaching a breaking point. "I know you're scared and upset, just like I am. It's okay to show it."

"I just feel so useless," Sam cried, holding on tight to Steve's shirt while he finally fell apart. "He used to trust us, he used to come to us when Y/n wasn't there and he needed to be little. And now it's all ruined and we can't even talk to him about it because it'll just make things worse!"

"I know sweetheart," Steve said softly, beginning to rock back and forth to comfort his partner. "It'll all work out, you'll see."

"But what if it doesn't?" Sam asked tearfully. "What if that vacation was the last time we ever got to spend time with him while he was little? What do we do then?"

"That won't happen," Steve said quietly. "We are not giving up on him like that. He just needs time."

Sam nodded his head, slowly calming down as he listened to Steve's steady heartbeat. "I don't know if I trust myself to confront those assholes from Disneyland."

"I won't let you go too far," Steve assured him, knowing it wasn't entirely true.

"That's the thing, I want to go too far. It kinda scares me," Sam explained, sniffling and shifting in Steve's lap to look at him. "I don't want to kill anyone, but there's this rage that's just burning under my skin. Like I want to hurt them, like really, really hurt them. Does that make me evil?"

Steve was silent for a while, thinking over what he wanted to say. "Do you think that Y/n is evil?" He asked quietly, waiting for Sam to shake his head 'no' before responding. "She hurt Sarkissian. I'm pretty sure she's almost killed her before. And yeah that's kinda scary to think about, but it doesn't stem from a desire to hurt people; it comes from the protection that she holds for Bucky."

"He's not mine the way that he's hers," Sam said, still not understanding where Steve was going with this.

"No, but just because we're not his main caregivers doesn't mean we don't still love him and want to protect him. You don't think Bucky would want to hurt somebody who hurt us?" Steve explained with a pointed look.

Sam thought for a moment before leaning against Steve's chest and letting out a deep sigh. "You're right," he said softly. "But I'm still scared."

"That's alright," Steve said gently, holding Sam closer. "That's why I'm here. You can be scared, I'll be there to help you through it just like you'll help me."

"Thanks Stevie," Sam sighed, exhaustion beginning to overtake him. "Can we go to bed? I know it's early, but I'm so tired."

Steve pressed a kiss to his forehead and stood up, easily scooping Sam up and carrying him bridal style towards the bedroom. "I don't mind turning in a little early, I'm an old man, remember?"