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“You can do this,” Steve urged, and Bucky glared at him. Steve fell silent again while Bucky raised his fists to his temples, pressing them to his skin. He dropped his head to his knees and exhaled slowly.
“I didn’t…” Bucky began, before taking another deep breath. “I took a train to work.”
“When?”
“I don’t remember the specific dates, Steve,” Bucky snapped, and Steve scooted to sit closer to him on the sofa. He pulled Bucky’s fists away from his temples, and smoothed out his hands for him. Steve wrapped one arm around Bucky and pulled him against his side. After a moment of not moving, Bucky melted into his side a little bit, straightening his back and shutting his eyes.
“I think we’re done for today,” Steve murmured.
“I honestly don’t know why you fucking bother, Steve,” Bucky spat, pressing his face angrily into Steve’s shoulder. “It’s never going to happen. I’m always just going to be… I don’t know. Fucked up. Unrecognizable. A disaster-”
“Bucky,” Steve interrupted, burying his face in Bucky’s messy hair. “Calm down. You’re not any of those things, and of course I recognize you. I keep trying because I know we’ll get there.”
“We?” Bucky repeated, raising an eyebrow even though Steve could not see it.
“Yes, we,” Steve confirmed. “We’re in this together. I have faith in you and me.”
Bucky heaved a dramatically put-upon sigh, and Steve smiled into his hair.
“I rode the train for a couple years during the thirties,” Bucky murmured, and Steve kissed his temple.