Author's Note: People on Tumblr keep asking me to write a part 2 to this one, but I have no inspiration for one. So, alas, it is only a one-shot. I hope you enjoy nonetheless. I'm not sure if this is a Steve X Character or a Bucky X Character. Oh well.

44) Sleep Talk


I woke up but didn't open my eyes. I could feel that I was in a flimsy bra and short shorts—that was it. I was under some blankets and laying on a comfortable mattress with my head on a pillow. I was on my left side—which was good, I preferred that one. When I bent my knees, I felt them brush something that was on top of the blankets and reveal I wasn't in my usual narrow twin-size bed.

My eyes flew open, taking in the gray quilt and the lighter gray wall. I recognized the design on the bedspread—heck, I picked it out—and felt confusion seep in. Slowly, I sat up and turned around to see what my toes had touched.

Bucky Barnes was lying shirtless in basketball shorts on the other half of the queen-size on his stomach, metal arm dangling off the edge. His head was facing me but he was sleeping.

How on Earth did I get here? I thought confusedly, looking around Bucky's room.

He started mumbling in his sleep—definitely not in English. I reached over and brushed a lock of his thick hair away from his face, careful not to touch his skin. He was a super light sleeper and he would probably attack me if I woke him up. As I tucked the lock behind his ear, I realized he was speaking Russian—which I knew. My eyes widened as he shuffled and took a deep breath before going back to muttering. I closed my eyes and listened to what he was saying.

"Don't make me! Please! I don't want to kill anyone else! Please! Stop! Don't make me, don't make me! I don't want to! Please!" he pleaded in Russian, creases forming on his forehead.

My blood ran cold in my veins, making my chest feel hollow.

He kept going on like that for several minutes, begging his HYDRA handlers or superiors to not make him kill an innocent person. I watched, my heart silently breaking for him, still not knowing how I ended up in his room in his bed, but not caring because my friend was in pain. But he slept so little anyway I didn't know if I had the heart to wake him up.

Then the creases of fear and pain vanished, leaving behind an angry set to his mouth and a murderous scrunch to his eyebrows. His head tilted upwards. Even though he was lying down he looked dangerous and powerful.

"Begging for your life won't make a difference to me!" he snapped angrily.

My blood ran even colder.

I wasn't sure which was worse.

There was a word before "difference", but I didn't know what it was—probably a swear-word.

I brushed my own sleep-wild hair out of my face and laid back down, this time on my right side, staring at him. We'd been good friends for a long time, and I'd never been sure if I was in love with him or not, but I hated seeing him like this. He was in so much pain, but he needed sleep.

But finally I think some assassin instinct alerted him to the fact that he was being stared at because his blue eyes snapped open. When his gaze focused on me, he relaxed in the face but I saw his body tense up. "Was I talking in my sleep again?" he asked urgently. Because I was pretty fluent in Russian, sometimes I forgot what language we were speaking in so it took me a moment to register the English. When I did I cast my eyes down to the pillows our heads were on.

"A bit," I admitted.

"What language?"

"Russian."

He closed his eyes and sighed. "What did I say?"

"Bucky…"

"No. You can't protect me from my own nightmares forever. What did I say?" The last phrase was in angry Russian, almost like he hadn't realized he'd shifted.

"You started off by begging your handlers to not make you kill innocent people," I told him.

"And how did I end?"

"'Begging for your life won't make a difference to me'," I quoted, using the tone he had.

Bucky sighed heavily and just looked at me for a moment. "I'm sorry you had to go through listening to all that," he muttered. "I didn't think you'd be awake to hear me anytime soon."

"How did I end up in here, anyway?" I asked.

"You've been unconscious for three days. You caught some sort of sickness. Tony and Bruce have been looking for a cure or something but your fever is running high. One minute you were fine and the next you collapsed on the floor. Steve and I have been watching over you because our immune systems are stronger than everyone else's. Plus we produce more body heat than anyone else and you've been covered in gooseflesh since you passed out. We've been doing our best to keep you warm."

"Why not put me in my own bed?"

"We needed to keep watch on you all the time and hold you to keep you warm—it was just easier this way," he answered. I raised one eyebrow for a moment, but didn't say anything. That certainly explained why both of us were half-naked.

Bucky scooted closer to me as I shivered and put his arms around me. He was lying on his left side and I knew that was uncomfortable for him—it drove his metal into his skin and hurt. So I slipped out of the covers, over the top of him, and laid on the other side. He turned to keep up and curled his body around me.

I stayed snuggled into his front all day, letting him keep me warm. He felt really good.

I was nuzzled deep into his chest, curled up and feeling very content.

As nightfall came, Steve opened the door. He picked me up—me realizing that I couldn't stand on my own—and carried me in his arms towards his room. He set me down under the covers and did the same thing Bucky did. "I'm glad to see you're awake," he murmured.

"Thanks."

"Did Bucky… talk in his sleep?"

"Yeah—in Russian. He started pleading to not kill anyone else, and ended by scoffing that begging for your life won't make a difference."

Steve sighed as his body powered down. "It's getting worse."

"Is it?"

"Yeah. He used to mutter in English. He only ever talks in Russian when he's distressed."

"So what do we do?"

"Somehow calm him down. I just don't know how."

"We'll think of something."

"When you're better. For now just sleep. You'll feel better if you do." He stroked my hair until I blacked out.


End Note: Don't be afraid to tell me what you think/thought!

Thanks for reading!

~Cass