Bucky woke gasping for air.
The darkened room was empty except for himself; window closed and the moon shining through the curtain.
Holding back a moan, he clasped his arms tight around his chest, and struggled to slow his breathing, trying not to scream.
Quiet, he had to be quiet.
When a tiny whimper escaped him, he turned over onto his belly and pressed his face into the pillow, a few tears escaping as he remembered the final horror.
Just before he'd woken, Bucky had opened his eyes on his unknown attacker.
The face he'd seen had been his own.