You were... needless to say... harvesting a criminal. You had absolutely no intention of doing so, but seeing Bucky nearly dead in an alley pulled at your heart strings enough to want to take him to your home. You only found out that he was a criminal after you had brought him home and you saw him on the news. But when he woke up he was just so scared and confused, you couldn't say no.

Months later, he still breaks into your apartment a few times a week just to rest, eat, or even sometimes just to make sure you were okay. You changed the locks countless times, but he still always gets in even if you try to keep him out. He never speaks, never bothers, never tries to scare you, he just simply is. You've become a prime source of safety and comfort to him whether you liked it or not. You were something that had to be protected and consistent because without it, he feels like he'd fall apart.

Today, something new happened. You walked back into your apartment from a long, grueling day of work when you see him laid across your sofa in his full gear and mask, sniper on the coffee table, and he's tightly hugging a pillow to himself. You were about to speak, but that's when you hear small whimpers. His body shook as he desperately clings to the pillow in his arms.

He hears the creak of a floor board and he immediately grabs his dagger and sits up, clutching it desperately in his shaky hands, but when he sees you, his expression softens and he drops the knife. When you approach to ask what's happening, he grabs you, more quickly than you realize and he simply clings to you with his face buried deep in your stomach. His arms were like iron rods and he clung to you like you were the only thing that would save him from this torture.