Hydra put multiple trigger words in Bucky’s head, including one to instantly shut him up when needed. One day, Steve accidentally says one of these trigger words and now Bucky can’t talk, and Steve feels horrible because they don’t know how to reverse it yet and now Bucky can’t speak to him or scream out from a nightmare or tell Steve if somethings bothering him and just angst….

saferforeveryone:

“You could’ve called me sooner.” Natasha sounds genuinely concerned, which only ramps up Steve’s anxiety because she usually enters situations with detachment until she’s had a chance to assess them. Although, he figures an emergency ‘tripped a trigger and now Bucky can’t talk’ text has probably given her all the initial information she needs. “Clint’s on his way.”

“Okay.” Steve’s not sure why they need Clint for this, of all people, but he moves aside so she can come into the apartment. Bucky’s sitting on the couch, knees drawn up to his chest and staring blankly at the TV. He hasn’t moved for a while, not since the first night when he screamed for help in his sleep and nothing came out. 

“Any changes?” Natasha sits down next to him on the couch, but Bucky doesn’t do more than glance at her with a defeated expression before going back to staring at nothing. It twists Steve’s stomach, because what if he’s embarrassed? What if this was the wrong thing to do? It’s not like Bucky can tell him that.

“He can hear you, he just can’t… He kept putting his hand over his mouth before, I think it reminds him of the…” Muzzle, he doesn’t say, but Natasha gets it. “He can nod and shake, that’s about it.”

“That’s something.” The door buzzes and Steve goes to get it, leaving Natasha trying to talk to Bucky. “Can you write?”

He shakes his head, chewing on his already-bloody lip miserably. It feels like he’s right back there every time he closes his eyes, leather and stiff plastic strapped over his face so he couldn’t speak, couldn’t scream, couldn’t say no-

“Hey, man.” He hadn’t noticed Clint come in, but he plonks himself down on the coffee table when Bucky opens his eyes, blocking his view of the TV without any ceremony. “Alright, let’s see if there’s anything in that coconut of yours that’s gonna help here. I’ve got like thirty of these to run through, so settle in.”

He starts moving his hands into different shapes, stopping and starting again when Bucky just looks at him uncomprehendingly. Steve watches from the door, rock in his stomach buoying up suddenly enough to make him feel sick with relief when Bucky raises his hands to finally, finally respond. 

“Alright! We got one.” Clint looks over his shoulder triumphantly, now signing along with what he says out of habit despite the fact Bucky can hear him. “It’s DGS, German Sign Language. We can work with that until the trigger wears off.”

“Oh, thank god.” Steve lets out a sigh of relief he feels all the way down to his toes. Bucky, looking markedly perked up now he can be understood, taps Clint on the knee and rapidly signs something in Steve’s direction. 

“He says you’re an idiot.” Clint interprets, and Steve hates himself for tripping the trigger just a little less when he sees Bucky’s weary smile.