Homemade Magic (2/?): Bucky's request
Bucky info dumps on Thor and together, they decide how to help Steve.
The next evening, a knock on the door pulled Thor from the journal he’d been scratching his thoughts down with a homemade quill and ink - midgardian technology was one thing, but he did love to stick to his own habits. He sat the items down, careful to cork the bottle of ink before getting to his feet.
It was late in the evening, a time he should’ve been attempting to sleep but sleep wouldn’t come to him, not when he was far too worried about Steve. After dinner, Steve had excused himself early, claiming to be tired. He’d watched him go with concern tightening his chest, wanting to prod his memories further but Steve had locked them away.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Thor said loud enough when there was another knock. He kept his expression natural as he opened the door to reveal Bucky, the last person he expected at his door. “James, please come in. What can I do for you, friend James?”
The concerned expression Bucky wore didn’t settle the anxiety settling in his chest like shrapnel from a shield. He didn’t like it.
Bucky’s steps were slow and careful as he walked into the room, hands held behind his back. “I’m sorry to disturb you this late, Thor. I wanted to...”
He trailed off, eyes fluttering around the room to take in the comforts of home that Thor had laid here - the bearskin rug in front of the fire, the plaits of furs along the couch, a container of what appeared to be mead and a goblet that had been used recently. He spotted the journal sitting on the arm of the chair, bound with straps of leather across its uneven parchment sheets, he was clearly invading a personal time for the man.
“Talk?” Thor prompted, leading him towards his couch. He sat on the edge, hands clasped in his lap to keep himself from fiddling around. “It must be dire if you’re coming to me.”
Thor noticed how Bucky kept his responses short and blunt, noticing how he ran a hand through his hair. He’d learned through mutual interactions that this meant he was planning, organizing his thoughts, trying to push through the muddle that was Hydra’s damage. He decided to stay silent, even if his heart was beating in the depths of his throat, let Bucky speak on his own need.
“You noticed during dinner he barely ate a bite? It’s a habit of his from childhood - to push the food around and take minimum bites. The last time someone called him out on that, he projectile vomited on the table before bursting into tears.” There was a wisp of a smile on Bucky’s lips as he recalled this memory. “To be fair to him, the poor fella was sick as a dog and was trying to hide it from us.”
Thor had noticed his beloved wouldn’t eat, he pushed his food around and responded to the conversation when only spoken to.
“When we were running errands yesterday, y’know the normal just grabbing a few groceries and tidbits-we passed an older antique shop. They had TVs stacked in the window, playing some commercials. I didn’t think anything of it but Steve stood there and refused to move for anything. It was just a simple commercial - mother and son baking cookies together, all warm and domestic...” Bucky’s voice tightened and he had to clear his throat before continuing, “Steve just - just started crying.”
Thor felt his heart clench, seeing the pain written on Bucky’s face. He could remember Steve coming home with his bags and setting them on the counter before walking straight into his office and saying he wanted to be alone.
“Crying? Why didn’t you or Steve tell me?”
“It’s not for me to tell,” Bucky replied simply, shrugging his shoulders. He had a deep expression of pain, the only sort of pain that came from watching his best friend silently suffer. “It wasn’t like it was loud or dramatic, but yet somehow worse. Silently crying, just standing there...crying while staring at this stupid cookie commercial like it ripped his heart out and stomped on it in front of him. This happens every year without fail...”
“Every October? Does this have something to do with the Halloween memories he’s shared with me?”
“Every single October,” Bucky confirmed. “Haven’t you noticed? He’ll become quiet and withdrawn, eventually he’ll stop eating as much. And I don’t know if you know this but with his serum and body mass, he needs to keep up with his calorie intake as much as you do. Instead Steve won’t, he’ll push himself further and further and collapse. He won’t sleep as much either, says he gets pretty intense nightmares about Mama Sarah dying, about being alone. Last year he locked himself inside his apartment for three days. It would've been longer if I and Sam hadn’t busted the door down.”
“I didn’t know this, I’m afraid duty in Asgard called me away during that time last year. If I had known, I would’ve stayed to somehow comfort Steve...” Thor trailed off, rubbing at his cheek and feeling the guilt piling in him. “Why didn’t you or Steve or anyone tell me before? I could’ve been prepared, I could’ve helped him!”
