Life of the Party

Take me to church

"Oh my God, Steve what happened to you?!" 

He said nothing, instead stepping back as Natasha walked in. 

"I've been texting you, calling you-" She trailed off, entering the apartment with wide eyes. "What the hell has happened in here?!" Her gaze quickly swept the room, taking in the mess it had become. Trash everywhere, uncleaned dishes piled in the sink, dirty clothes stashed in every corner. "Oh my God..." She repeated softly, blue orbs slowly drifting back to meet Steve's gaze.

"I'll get around to it," He defended, honestly not having much of an opinion on the matter. "it's not as bad as it looks."

The redhead simply laughed, walking over to sit down at the kitchen table. "Not as bad as it looks? Jesus Steve, open your eyes! It looks like a tornado came through here!"

Steve shrugged, leaning against the wall. "Nat, what are you doing here? I know you didn't come to accuse me about my living conditions."

"I would have if I'd have known," she replied, pulling out a sketch from under a pile of books that were stacked on the table.  It was of Bucky, laughing and looking off into the distance, metal arm reflecting the golden rays of a setting sun. "That's what this is all about," She realized, studying the penciled drawing with wide, curious eyes before turning the paper over. On the back the brunette was pictured again, though Steve had drawn himself as well, leaning in to kiss him, looking happier than she had ever seen him. "...You miss him."

Steve just shrugged, though his gaze was filled with sadness. Of course he missed him. He didn't even know what he had until it was gone. Until Bucky was gone. It had left him with a giant void that he just didn't know how to fill. His workplace was now filled with dozens of pieces of the brunette, some including him, others just portraits.

"Steve, this is getting unhealthy," Natasha murmured, gesturing around the room. "You're depressed as hell, you've locked yourself away in the apartment for at least weeks..." She paused, standing up and making her way over to the windows which were completely shaded by blinds, "and would it kill you to let a little bit of light in here?" She emphasized her words by opening the windows, frowning as Steve winced when light flooded the room. 

"Natasha, I'm fine..." He really didn't have the energy to argue with her, much less deal with her concern for his mental stability. So what if he was depressed? He'd already accepted that weeks ago. "I just need to be alone right now." He sat down on the couch, releasing a heavy sigh as his head fell into his hands. 

Natasha sighed, and Steve felt a rack of guilt hit him. She was just trying to help. always having his best interest in mind. 

"You don't need to worry about me," He added softly. "I'm going to get through this."

Lies. 

"I'm going to be fine."

And he knew she saw right through him, though she said nothing about it. "I'll be back tomorrow," She said instead, flashing him a look that told him not to argue. "We're going to get this placed cleaned up, whether you like it or not. Got it?"

"Sure." 

Nodding she offered him a small, reassuring smile. "He'll be back," She whispered, meeting his gaze as she walked over to sit down beside him on the couch, wrapping him in her arms. 

If only that was true. Bucky had Rebecca to take care of back home and couldn't just leave her whenever he felt like it. They spoke on the phone as often as possible, but if anything it just made the pain that much stronger. He often fell asleep to the sound of Bucky's voice, but it always left him feeling so alone in the morning, seeing as the line had gone dead and the bed was far too big for one person alone.