ever marching as to war

It's not just habit to go see Bucky, it's routine. Having him be... the way he's been, lately, has been bitter sweet. Not that there isn't something nice in seeing him at ease, more or less, but I know it won't last. As nice as it's been having him back to his old self, that's not the man he's grown into, the one I know. Not anymore. And I miss that person.

I've been heading over earlier and earlier, because I can tell by the bags under his eyes and the way his smiles come slower that the nightmares are getting worse. When I spot him today, my stomach drops.

"...Buck," I say quietly as I approach, not bothering to keep the concern from my voice.