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The soft light of the moon shines through Bucky's windows, illuminating the otherwise pitch black room.
The only sound is the sound of the rain against the windows- And Bucky's heavy breathing... silent sobs that if questioned about them he'd deny immediately. It's a strange phenomenon, when even if you were doing perfectly fine or at least decent- suddenly you break apart, you break down.
Maybe it's PTSD. Maybe it's just bottled up emotions acting up, Bucky doesn't know and he knows he won't try to find out. So he just sobs softly on his bed, nails digging into his scalp as if trying to find anything to ground him, to stop whatever has come over him.
But may it be luckily or unluckily for Bucky, Clint can hear those unmistakable sobs, even though they're as soft as they are. At the sound Clint immediately gets out of bed, quickly going to Bucky's room while trying to be as quiet as possible. Without knocking he opens the door slowly, his gaze and expression as a whole a silent question, or rather a desperate beg-
*"Please let me help."*
Bucky barely glances up before nodding slightly, wiping tears that had been threatening to fall from his eye with the back of his wrist. Without another word needing to be said, Clint closes the door and locks it, swiftly yet carefully getting on the bed, sitting up next to where Bucky is curled up.
He's about to speak softly before Bucky suddenly moves to cling to Clint, nails digging into the loose fabric of the back of Clint's shirt with his head sobbing into the archer's shoulder instead- putting his pride aside to try and ground himself.. To let Clint help, as difficult as it is to do so.
"I'm a fuck up, undeserving of anyone's love." Bucky mutters shakily into the crook of Clint's neck.
**"Well too bad, cause' I love you anyway."**