Bandages - Fuzzy Socks
Comfyvember Cheat Sheet
November 2017
Sometimes, as Thanksgiving drew closer, Bucky found himself thinking back to the Thanksgiving two years ago, when they'd gone up to Clint's farm. Or rather, he thought of the day they'd come back home, and Bucky had crashed harder than he had in a long time.
Brad's sinister voice whispering in his ear. His hands closing around Steve's neck. The shock of cold as he ran out into the night, barefoot. The bone-aching cold as he trudged wearily through a nightmare of his own making.
The warmth of a coat thrown around his shoulders. A mug of hot chocolate cupped in his hands. Warm water turned to fire around his frostbitten feet. Soft towel against his skin, bandages expertly wound around his feet, a blanket over his lap. Warm food. Cool water down his throat. Sweet chocolate cake.
Steve and Sam, still there by his side no matter how horribly he'd treated them.
Sometimes, in these moments of reflection, Bucky felt as though he'd taken a step outside himself, comparing who he was now to the man he'd been two years ago. Had that really been him? It was so different now, after so many hardships and so many joys, after prison and days in court and many, many therapy sessions. It was hard to imagine that he would ever attack Steve and run out in a panic, no matter what his hallucinations said to him.
But the hot chocolate tasted the same. Sam's cooking was as good as ever. The warmth remained. And Steve and Sam were still there by his side no matter what.
Sometimes he caught Steve looking at him when he thought Bucky didn't notice, almost as if the same thoughts were on his mind. It was easy to remember the hurt in Steve's eyes that day, hurt that had nothing to do with the bruises around his neck. He remembered the worry in Steve's face as he tended to Bucky's feet. And there was no way he could forget the concern in his eyes when Bucky had finally told him about the voices in his head. The anger on his behalf. The complete and utter acceptance.
Neither of them said anything about it. They didn't really need to; it wasn't like anything of the sort would happen this year. They both knew better how to keep things from ever getting that far.
All the same, Bucky wore fuzzy, warm socks on Thanksgiving that year.
