A/N: I know that after Civil War, *SPOILER* Bucky was frozen (again); but I came up with this idea before I actually saw the movie, so the timeline is a little messed up. Just pretend for the sake of this one shot that Bucky didn't get frozen, and is living in NY. 

Dedicated to my friend @katherinedelia-who shares my love of the Winter Soldier. I remember that long bus ride back in June where we spent half an hour discussing the many virtues of the amazing Winter Soldier......I'm so glad to have found another fan of his!

This one's for you, Katherine! 

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Your POV

I didn't get home until well after midnight after a long shift at the hospital, and the first thing I did was make myself a nice soothing cup of chamomile tea. As I was grabbing a mug, I noticed an dirty one sitting in the sink, with the remains of a cup of coffee at the bottom. So—Bucky finally figured out the coffee machine.

It had been nearly a month since Bucky Barnes had become my new roommate. My friend Steve Rogers, aka Captain America had called me up after his huge fight with Iron Man, asking if Bucky could stay at my place for a while to lay low. His name had been cleared, but not everyone was ready to trust him yet.

I'll admit, when he'd first moved in, I hadn't been ready to trust him either—but over the past few weeks, I'd definitely warmed up to him. You might even call him my friend.....

Of course, it hadn't all been easy. He'd been under ice for the majority of the last eighty years, and his knowledge of the modern world was minimal. This meant that I had to spend a lot of time teaching him simple life skills from running the dishwasher to riding escalators to yes, using the coffee machine.

I cleaned the small pile of dishes in the sink, which passed the time until the kettle had boiled. I poured some hot water into my favorite mug, added a tea bag, and sighed contentedly as the warm liquid slid down my throat, instantly relaxing me.

Making my way to my room, I paused briefly by the living room to check on Bucky. He lay sprawled out on my small grey couch, his legs hanging over the end. He looked so peaceful that I had to smile; it had taken him weeks to trust me completely, and he still sometimes had nightmares about his time with HYDRA. But tonight, it seemed, he would sleep undisturbed.

Satisfied that he was okay, I tiptoed back to my room, careful not to make any noise. My apartment had only one bed—which I'd offered to Bucky with no qualms at all, but he refused, saying he didn't want to make me sleep on the couch. So he'd taken it instead—even though he barely fit on it lengthwise.

As I changed into my sleep shorts and t-shirt, I heard a sickening thud come from the other room. Alarmed, I sprang to my feet and sprinted out of my bedroom.

Terrified of what I might find, but too anxious to wait, I reached the living room. There, lying on the floor, was Bucky. He was thrashing around, and muttering in what I guessed to be Russian. He must've fallen off the couch in his sleep. Running to kneel beside him, I sighed. I thought finally the nightmares had gone away. After weeks and weeks of sitting up with him well into the morning, he'd eventually relaxed, and slept peacefully for the most part.

"Bucky," I said, shaking him gently. "Bucky, wake up, you're dreaming!"

His eyes flew open, but instead of calming down, he bolted upright, and immediately latched his metal arm onto my throat. Looking into his eyes, I saw only rage and pain—lots and lots of pain, and nothing to hint that the Bucky I knew was still in there.

"James.." I croaked, prying at his hand that was clenched around my throat, but to no avail. "James, this isn't you. Whatever you're seeing, it's not real. You can fight this, Buck. I know you can...." I ran out of breath for any more words, but just as my vision began to get fuzzy around the edges, I felt the grip around my neck loosen abruptly, and I collapsed to the floor, coughing.

As I caught my breath, I looked back up at Bucky, who sat crouched on the floor beside me. His blue eyes weren't clouded with anger anymore, and I knew he must have remembered where he was. But the pain was still there—it filled his eyes as he looked down at me. Tentatively, he reached out his human hand to touch my bruised neck. Still a little shaken up, I flinched at his touch. He quickly retracted his hand, guiltily.

"Oh my God...did I.....?" He rasped, and I cupped his face with my hand, softly running my fingers over his stubble, hoping to reassure him that he didn't scare me.

"Bucky, don't do this to yourself—you know isn't you doing it. It's the Winter Soldier; and he's becoming more and more of a distant memory every day."

My words seemed to get to him, but even so, tears began to run down his cheeks.

"But I hurt you." He cried, burying his head in my shoulder. "I hurt you, and what if I do it again? What if I don't wake up in time and I...."

He didn't need to finish his sentence. Yes, I'd had tiny fears of him going on a rampage and, well, killing me, but over the past few months, he'd gained my complete trust. His panic attacks where he seemed to turn into the Winter Soldier again were becoming few and far between; and for shorter and shorter periods of time.

I wrapped my arms around Bucky, and pulled him closer to me. Responding to my gesture, he gently wrapped his arms around my waist, holding onto me firmly. I rested my head on his shoulder, breathing in his relaxing scent of clean laundry and men's cologne.

"I'm sorry." He sobbed, and soon my shoulder was soaked with his tears.

"Bucky," I soothed, rubbing his back soothingly, "It's okay. I—"

"No." He said firmly, pulling away. "It's a part of me that will never go away—a part of me that I can't control, and if this keeps happening, then—"

"Hey." I said, putting my hand gently on his metal arm. "Yes, this is part of you now—and yes, you'll probably never be quite the same again, but you can overcome this. I believe in you. Steve and I believe in you. Heck, half the Avengers believe in you! Excluding T'Challa, of course, but he's technically not even in the Avengers...."

Bucky chuckled, and I opened my arms to him again. He was still hesitant; but allowed me to wrap my arms around him and rest my chin on his shoulder. I felt the tension leave his shoulders as he leaned up against me, carefully wrapping his arms around my waist again. We sat there as one, comforting each other and enjoying the other's company, until finally I began to see rays of sunlight come in the window.

Another day had come; and for Bucky's sake, I hoped it was a better one.

THE END