Trauma

the truth

"I am afraid, Steve. I am scared to death" , Bucky admitted, not daring to look his boyfriend in the eye. Why shouldn't he be honest? He'd started being honest just one day ago and he didn't see a reason to stop now. It felt too good.

"What are you afraid of? What makes you back away? Why didn't you want to get help from a therapist?" , asked Steve with his softest voice which carried real curiosity. He actually wanted to know the reason. He wanted to understand exactly how his boyfriend felt and to take his worries away. At least that was what Bucky suspected. It only made him love Steve even more if that was possible. And it made it easier to say the truth, to reveal the hidden truth behind his resistence.

"It's two things actually", began Bucky, still not looking at Steve, "the first thing is that I want to prove that I am strong enough to solve things myself. Not necessarily for you or anyone else, but for me. I always thought that getting help was admitting that I have been defeated. I never wanted that. I guess I didn't want it to be true. That I actually needed help. It's harder to accept than you can imagine, Steve.

"And the other thing is that... A therapist changes you. He shapes you. I ... I am afraid that a therapist would shape me into someone I am not, bend and break me until I fit in. I ... that's what scares me the most... I already lost myself multiple times when I was with Hydra... I ... I don't ... I couldn't go through that again."

And once again it felt good to tell the truth, to share his worries and to know that it was now two people who wanted those worries to stop. It got even better when Steve's hands closed around Bucky's. They were warm and soft and big and reassuring. They made Bucky look up and into the beautiful blue eyes of his precious boyfriend. So beautiful.

"Some people are too weak to get themselves the help they need, Bucky. Do you know what happens to many of them? They lose themselves. They shatter to dust and they can't be put together by anyone afterwards. They drink, do drugs or maybe even die. And they often take their families with them. They may not know it but they don't only doom themselves, they also doom the people they love, the people around them. Because they are to weak to admit their failure. Admitting that you need help takes a lot of courage. Not because you've failed but because of how people treat damaged individuals of their own species. Because humans are garbage.

"And about the change thing... a therapist doesn't change who you are. They only take what's already there and bring it to the surface. They give you weapons against the demons and for some time they fight alongside you. They don't take the demons a way.... Uhm... let's say you are an alcoholic. A therapist can help you to stop drinking but alcohol will always be your enemy. You can never give in a drink again because it will bring the demons back to the surface. They are not gone, they just linger in the background, ready to strike whenever you let them" , explained Steve, gently squeezing Bucky's hand every once in a while.

Those words really took the fear away. Steve knew what to say and how to put it to make Bucky feel better. He was like an angel and Bucky needed this angel. He was desperate for it.

"Thank you" , said Bucky, smiling at his boyfriend, "Thank you, really. I don't know what I would do without you."

"Probably starve" , laughed Steve while grabbing their plates to clean up.

"Hey! I can cook!" , he protested, reaching for the plates in Steve's hand to signal his boyfriend that it was his turn to do something. Steve moved his hands away.

"Yeah? If you prefer burned food you're an expert" , laughed captain america while backing away in the direction of the door to keep Bucky from taking the plates. "Really, how do you even manage to burn everything you touch? You've got a talent there!"