Bucky was, unfortunately, getting used to Steve's relapses. They happened too often, and it killed him inside to watch Steve, his kind-hearted Steve, suffer so much.

After Steve had fallen off of that train, Bucky had been a wreck. He disappeared into his own mind, still wordlessly fighting for the greater good as "Captain America". He wondered where he would he if he'd been in Steve's shoes.

In all honestly, he didn't see himself actively living that life -- alive, sure, but not on the inside. He wished he could take Steve's pain and make everything better. He wished Steve would smile more.

He wished Steve had never become the Winter Soldier.

////

Bucky steps into the darkened apartment and immediately feels as if something's off. Cautiously, he sets his keys and wallet on the counter and pulls his jacket and shoes off, before quietly making his way to their shared room.

"Stevie? Doll, what's -- "

And a hand is around his throat, lifting him from the ground. Gasping, Bucky claws at his hand and looks at him pleadingly before he's thrown.

Bucky rolls over backwards and stands, then grabs his shield from against the wall, cursing Hydra and cursing everything.

"Steve, I know it's you in there," Bucky pants as he backs into the living room, bracing himself for the next attack. Steve tackles him and Bucky twists them both around so he's pinning him to the ground. Steve tries to escape, on the verge of hyperventilating.

In one movement he reaches a dagger in his pocket and has it against Bucky's throat. Bucky swallows, staring at him, wide-eyed.

He'd always hated the look in Steve's eyes. Before, his eyes were bright, and were the easiest way to tell how he was really feeling -- now, they look empty.

"Look at me," Bucky pleads, his voice shaky. He moves a hand to cup Steve's cheek and Steve stares at him in confusion, momentarily distracted. "It's Bucky. I'm right here, Steve, please..."

"No," Steve croaks, lowering the knife a fraction. "No, Bucky's gone. You can't be -- " He swallows and struggles to connect his thoughts together. "You. You couldn't save me."

Bucky blinks back the tears threatening to fall as he keeps him pinned, tense and waiting for another attack. "I couldn't," he says in a hoarse voice. "I'm sorry."

Steve looks lost as he studies his face, eyes glassy. Bucky hesitantly sits up and Steve lifts himself up onto his forearms. "Bucky..?"

Bucky nods quickly, trying to find it within himself to be strong. "Hey, punk," he wavers. Steve sits up and wraps his arms around him, burying his face against his neck. The knife remains by his leg, but Bucky nudges it to the side with his foot.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Steve chokes, tears finally falling down his face. Bucky holds him tighter, silent as he thinks.

He should have saved him.

"I'm sorry too," he says softly. Steve holds him tight against him, feeling his heart beat against his chest. He closes his eyes and takes a shuddering breath then pulls back a little.

"Did I hurt you?" he mutters, looking down and swallowing uneasily. Bucky sub-consciously brings a hand to his neck to check. It would bruise a little, but he'd be okay.

"Just scared me a little, that's all. I'm okay." Bucky lifts his chin and looks him in the eye. "Hey, this will happen, okay? It isn't your fault."

Steve looks away and huffs quietly, so small Bucky almost misses it. Steve doesn't say anything more, but he slowly stands and takes a look around at the mess he'd made. Bucky cautiously joins him, keeping a careful eye on him.

He wordlessly begins cleaning up and Bucky helps him do so.

////

He takes off one morning, needing a walk to clear his head. Bucky doesn't feel great about it, but lets him go regardless.

He would run after him if he needed to. But Steve was an adult, however semi-stable he felt, and could make his own choices.

After an hour, Bucky starts pacing. Two hours and he's musing to himself, staring at his phone and contemplating calling him. After two and a half hours and no responses to his three missed calls, Bucky sets out into the night and begins his search.

////

Steve opens his eyes and finds himself surrounded. Although his instinct is to freak out, he takes slow breaths and sits stone still, already working out a plan to escape.

"Welcome home, soldier," a man to his right chimes. Surrounded by men in white coats and S.W.A.T. gear, Steve doesn't feel good about his chances of escape. There's a tightness in his chest and Steve starts struggling, yanking against his restraints. His only thought is Bucky, and what would happen to him.

"Please don't do this," he says, his voice rising in urgency. He knew this chair, he knew this room, he knew what would happen to him. "Please, please don't do this to him!" Soon he's yelling, switching between Russian, German and English at a rapid pace as he begs them not to do this to Bucky.

Bucky. That's the last thing he remembers before the machine whirs to life, and everything goes black.

////

Bucky charges into the facility, energised with fury. He focuses only on the crash of the shield against metal walls and agents, the gunshots, and general chaos as he picks a fight with the Hydra agents in the hideout. Anything to keep his mind off of his own thoughts, screaming to be heard over the din of destruction.

He runs through room after room, on high alert. Before his anxiety becomes too much, he finally finds a room at the end of the hall to the left.

He spots Steve sitting there, limp against the chair. It was still running. Bucky runs over and uses the edge of his shield to slice through the wires in one swoop. The machine dies down slowly and Bucky waits a moment before approaching Steve again.

Steve mumbles a list of numbers that takes Bucky a moment to recognise. That's when he realises that Steve is saying what they were taught to say in an event that a soldier was ever taken prisoner back in the forties; name, rank and number.

"Steve," Bucky says urgently, lowering himself onto a knee so he can see him face to face. Steve doesn't respond, his voice rough from yelling. "C'mon, we need to get you out of here."

Steve lifts his head a little. His eyes focus on Bucky for a second and he mumbles something in Russian. Of course that was one of the languages Bucky had never thought to learn -- besides French, he was clueless.

Bucky lifts him up and Steve's knees almost give out, so Bucky carries him through the facility. He saved him this time.

////

Bucky was, unfortunately, not used to this other side of Steve. There was brainwashed-confused Steve, regular-lovely Steve, and now, in on Bucky's opinion, the worst: unresponsive-silent Steve.

He didn't know how to react, how to fix things.

He sits at the table as he tries to think of a new way to approach the situation, try to work out some adjustments, if he could. He'd put on some music earlier to help himself think.

Steve walks out from the bedroom and wordlessly sits beside him and takes his hand. Bucky looks up and gives him a sad smile, then brushes a strand of his dirty blond hair off of his forehead; Steve's needed a trim.

"You okay?" he asks, tilting his head. Steve, as usual, doesn't respond with anything other than a nod. Bucky sighs a little and stands to change the music. Steve holds his hand tighter and stands with him. Bucky gets an idea.

"Wanna dance?" He offers him a rueful smile, looking hopeful. "We used to dance all the time back in the day. I was too small to keep up..."

A hint of a smile flashes across Steve's face as he watches him, still carefully guarded as if the wrong movement will send him back into Winter Soldier mode. He nods and Bucky pulls him closer. Steve relaxes against him and hides his face in his shoulder.

Bucky quietly sings along to the song as they sway together. After a moment, he hears Steve join in, his voice soft. Bucky smiles and kisses him gently, holding him close.

"I'm sorry," Steve mumbles and Bucky shakes his head.

"It's okay, doll," he says softly. "We're okay."

And he knew they would be, after getting used to this new lifestyle. All he knew was that he was never going to ditch Steve to figure this stuff out all on his own. He would stay with him like he promised.

Until the end of the line.

////

So just a quick idea of opposite roles in the modern day and age.