Your POV

I come back to myself in the back of a moving vehicle. I'm tied up, something warm and slick down my face and down my side. My head is swimming, and that isn't good. I don't feel like I have control of myself as I struggle to move, to open my eyes, anything. I feel a bump in the road and the pain in my gut flares again. I feel a flush of embarrassment as I remember not putting up much of a fight. My minimal field training was simply no match for Hydra. What was I even doing here? Why was I even trying to play on the same level as Captain Fucking America and the God Damn Winter Soldier? I'm an idiot. Barnes had been right. I wasn't even aware I had been followed, how on earth did I think I would really be any help to them. I try to move, rolling my head to either side and check if my earwig is still in place. No communicator. I let my body relax a little, my mind uncurl. Maybe if I could reach out I could find Steve or Bucky.

Bucky's dogtags are still on my neck under my shirt. I can't do much if they are awake but I think I can use it to reach one of them, but I feel like am completely upside down looped around myself. I try to reach out, but I get more than I bargained for.

I open my eyes to see a Hydra agent, leaning back on the bench, legs spread wide as he takes up space, a long gun slung over his shoulder and rested pointed down between his legs. He was staring down at my stomach. My shirt has rucked up in my struggle. I feel his desire slide off him. It is corrupt and sticky in my mind and I struggle to shut it out. Panic floods me, making it harder to turn off the magic. I don't want the extra insight of my powers right now and I try to clamp it down but my fear is fueling me and I feel everything inside me light up like a fire of panic.

He wants to dominate me. He wants to hold me down. He wants to feel me fight. He wants an excuse to hit me, watch a bruise bloom on my perfect skin and he wants to hear me make noises as I choke. He doesn't care if I moan in pleasure or pain, he wants to hear me make noise, wants to make me feel small. I feel sick around my gag and my stomach churn, so I stop moving. I try to be as still as I possibly can and struggle to block out his lustful imagination, as tears slide down my face. I feel it mix with the sticky blood from my scalp, and the disgusting wave of desire from the other side of the van. I feel another wave of disgust as his fantasy turns to enjoying my tears and I hear the real him shift to get more comfortable and spread his knees wide. He's getting hard just thinking about using me.

I'm not feeling entirely in control at the moment, but I remind myself that this is in his head and not mine. This was his perversion, and just because he imagined I would like it, that I would beg for it, doesn't mean I myself really want it at all. I feel the sticky sense of enjoyment as he imagines my mouth wrapped around his cock instead of the gag in my mouth. He imagines getting to pull back my hair in a fist and fuck my face. For a moment I considered my options. I could feed his fantasy, get him to untie me. Maybe overpower him? In this truck it's only me and him, but the door to the front cabin tells me there are more people. Even if I seduce him, his entire desire for me is to be powerless. How would I use that to overpower him? I can't even think straight right now. Everything is swimming. I try to move, to sit up, and resist the momentum as the van turns. I can feel that I am tied to myself but also to the side of the van. I feel his fantasy invades my mind again. He wants me tied up and helpless anyway. I can't do it. I also don't need to see this. I take control of myself in his mind. And I bite down hard.

I watch the real him jerk, his hips tucking back and desire falling off him in an instant. He swallows hard. Part of him wants to shake it off and go right back to his fantasy. Instead, I feel a rage push through me. I'm not sure where it comes from, but the image of The Winter Soldier's arm clamping around his throat shoots through me and burns my chest from the dogtags. Suddenly the man's mind is shut and gone and I pull back inside myself. I move a little, turning away.

The reality is I know right at this moment this perverted fool isn't planning on killing me, and I need to breathe. I need to breathe enough to control myself because I feel panic raging through me like flashing lights and a claxon and my head is killing me. I need to try and give the super soldiers an actual way to find me. I need to be a beacon the way I pulled myself toward Bucky. Can I pull Steve and Bucky toward me? I have no idea, but now seems like a really really good time to try. I feel the steady hum of the road under me, and struggle not to shake.

The front cabin door slides open, breaking my concentration as the big man in all black saunters past the guard. He hunches over and moves gracefully despite the low roof. There really isn't a lot of room for his long legs as he bends down to get close to me. He could sit on the wheel well but he doesn't bother. His legs look coiled and ready to strike. I know that face. This is the Hydra agent, the one who murdered his whole team just to get more muscle to take on the Winter Soldier. He smiles at my panic. "Y/N. I'm not sure how you work yet. But I will figure it out." His smile is dark and bone-wrenchingly terrifying.

I feel myself going cold, SHIELD had a file on me. Sam knew what I could do before I told him, if SHIELD knew, then Hydra knew. He knew. Now they wanted me. I don't want to know why. His fingers wrap around my neck and I struggle against the onslaught of blood and death. He cuts off my air supply, his mind wandering to every person whom he had left lifeless and dead. Also to his plans for me. His plans for Bucky. His plans for Steve. What he wouldn't do to get his hands on the original Super Soldier. Even just as a corpse. I struggle and kick but he shifts and sits on me. I'm crushed under the pressure, legs pinned by his weight, arms still tied to the side of the truck keeping me unable to fight. Unable to breathe. He doesn't want to kill me, but as I struggle as I feel his excitement, sick and filled with the pleasure of dominating me. He just wants me to blackout. I feel his cold calculating mind wrap around the dark edges of my own. He doesn't know what I can do but he is pretty confident I need to be conscientious to do it. So he takes that away from me.

Fucking jokes on him. I'm out of my depth here but without consciousness, it's like a dream. I am stronger when I dream. I claw myself out of a puddle of black tar that is my mind and jump. I need to find Steve and Bucky. I reach out and out. Hey, they are together, Steve found Bucky! This is great! Progress! And they are driving together. I wonder where they are going. Steve is driving, Bucky is in the passenger seat, feeling nervous and completely wound up. "Steve?" I ask. His jaw clenches but I don't think he can hear me, I sit forward on the back seat and try to touch the Captain's shoulder. I can feel him under my hand, feel his muscles tense. I know he can feel me, but he is focused on driving and he is just following the feeling. It's good. Very good but I am not sure that it is enough.

Bucky is in the passenger seat, his jaw is tight and his eyes are closed, everything tight in his muscles and his shoulders. His metal arm flexes, open and closed, it oozes with anger and energy I don't recognize. "She's scared" He breathed slowly through his nose. "Why is she showing me this and not you?"

Steve grips the wheel. "I don't think our connection is as strong." He answers. "I don't really know how it works." The blonde rolls his shoulder against my hand that is still there, strong muscle toned and rippling under my fingertips. He can feel me, he just doesn't feel it too much, I must feel quiet to him. "She feels closer."

I reach out and touch Bucky's upper arm. The metal is cool under my fingers but I don't feel him. I slide up and forward down to his clavicle and feel him jump under my touch. "Fuck" His flesh hand jumps to the center of his chest. Clawing at where my hand sits. I try and soften my touch and he breathes slower; little slower. "She's in a van. White. Unmarked. No windows."

Steve looks concerned for a moment. "Breathe" He says, reaching his right arm out and griping Bucky's thigh. The cool metal arm rests on the other super soldier's hand for a moment. "What's going on?"

"She's trying to get in my head again." He says, teeth grinding. I pulled my hand away from him feeling those words zing across my flesh. He is panting for air because of me. He is fighting me. The moment my flesh is away from him. His relief washes over me and I feel deep shame and sadness fill my chest to know that relief was from getting away from me. Guilt slams through me.

"I'm sorry" I tell him, shaking with the effort to hold on to only Steve. "I don't mean to hurt you."

"I lost her" He breathes. Both hands swating at his chest all of a sudden. "Shit...Shit." I feel his heartbeat, and panic leak from him but I don't reach out again. I can't sink into him like that again when he doesn't want it, but Steve is so much harder to hold on to now. He's concentrating on driving and he feels the sense of me but the dog tags around my neck are Bucky's not Steve's and this connection is tenuous at best. Then Steve's hand comes off Bucky's leg and I feel everything hiccup for a second.

I can't breathe. Black sick sludge pulls me down again and I feel Steve swerve a little. He puts his hand back down, grounding himself on Bucky and stabilizing my mind in the backseat as well as the car on the road. "I'm sorry Buck. I know you've got to be nervous with the idea of feeling someone in your head." Steve says softly. "And you have every right to be- but I gotta be honest. I don't know how to follow this. The signal isn't strong"

Bucky shifts, reaching his flesh arm over his body to connect with Steve's hand and I feel the connection strengthen a little. I feel warmth under my hand on Steve's shoulder and I struggle to wrap myself around him. If Bucky doesn't want me in his head, Steve does, and that has to be enough. I put both hands on him and pour everything I have into every moment I have connected with Captain America. I pour through Bucky's dog tags. Into Bucky through Steve's hand. Into Steve's hand once clutched to Bucky's chest late at night in the stolen moments of wartime.

Bucky shifts. "I'm not even sure how to let her in if I wanted to." Bucky says suddenly and I feel my heart jump.

"Steve" I whisper, but he doesn't hear me. "Steve please." The next part is hard. So hard I don't want to say it but I very suddenly know it is true. "You should leave me."

He can't hear me. Steve just glances at Bucky. "She says it works better when it is a dream. Close your eyes and just give her permission. I think she is doing all the work, but she doesn't always know when she is in your head, and she sometimes doesn't mean to invade your privacy." I'm a little surprised he understood how I felt without knowing my words but that is often how this stupid gift works. His words are soft even though the Captain feels like he is giving an order, "Invite her."

Bucky, the real Bucky shuts his eyes and dips his head forward and down. At the same time I feel him turn to look at me. The dream is separate from the real him, and yet the same. I feel him open like light spilling through the doorway and I am sucked into him like a glowing star floating through deep space. I let my right hand return to his clavicle, the center of his chest where his dog tags touch me, and now in the dream he looks right at me. He looks right into me, his blue eyes steeped in shock and the wave of relief that floods us is not just from me when he cracks a smile and whispers "Hey Dream Girl"

I break a smile of relief at him. "Hey Bucky." He glances at Steve, my hand on his shoulder, Steve doesn't seem to move or notice me. "He can't hear me."

"Yeah, looks that way." Dream Bucky shifts a little. I feel myself pulling, falling, and suddenly It's almost like I am floating. I've been druged. "Can you show me where you are?"

"No" His dream arms gently wrap around me the touch of skin on skin is electric to me even though it really isn't skin. "Bucky. You should turn around" I feel him shift against me. He feels my fear and my pain and I can feel anger pooling around him. Everything is quiet around me as he pulls me into his lap. My hand slides off Steve, wrapping around Bucky's neck as he settles my legs spread wide around him, but I don't feel disconnected from the blonde nearby, I want to try and pull away so he stops following me, but it is hard to fight the part of me that still wants them to find me. I settle into Bucky's lap, my hair falling around Bucky's face and it feels like for the moment we are in our own world. My tattered dirty hair slightly curled and a mess holding us alone and private behind a curtain. It should feel like a reversal of the alleyway, with me dominating him, yet he still feels so in control of me.

He holds my face, brushing my skin softly and I feel him touching the bruise there from where I was punched. He's inspecting the damage. Maybe feeling blood on his hand from my head wound. "I can't," I whisper. "You have to tell Steve to stop." I swallow and look into those bright blue eyes with an overwhelming crack of sadness. "He's got you. He should turn around." Bucky shakes his head. He isn't as afraid as he was in the alley not too long ago. "Run." I tell him. "You have to run."

Bucky feels something I don't look at. It laps at the edge of my mind and he is trying not to show me, so I don't look. It isn't mine, it is undeniably Bucky and I want to leave that emotion for him to keep for himself. I don't investigate, I just enjoy the feeling of his gentle touch in the dream calming my fear. "Try for me Dreamgirl. Can you please?"

I nod even though I don't want to, but when he asks it feels like a command sinking deep into me. The fingers stroking my lips are intimate and calming. I gently touch his face and pull the dream of him from the car to me. We lay in a puddle of black ooze, surrounded by darkness and illuminated by a single light, both of us on our backs in the cold. "Fuck" Bucky groans, stuck in the muck with me. "What is this?" He asks. Craning his neck to look around.

"He choked me out." I responded. Pulling hard to sit up in the puddle of muck. I flip onto my hands and knees, but it is hard for me just to stay upright. Bucky pulls himself free with effort but not impossible. He turns and wraps his arms around my waist but as he pulls me up the puddle of muck moves with me. It is looks closer at our surroundings, realising that we are in my mind again. The Carpenter gothic style windows, once tall and filled with light are boarded up, letting in slivers of moonlight and the room ...the room is completely trashed. Blood spattered across the walls and things were torn. Bucky wanders looking for a door, something. I don't watch him but he seems to stop by the poster of Steve again. I don't dare to look at what it looks like now. It caught Bucky's attention for a moment before he moved on. When I glance up this time I can see Steve isn't alone. Bucky is on the poster now too, shirtless and facing the other way, two flesh arms and short hair reminiscent of the howling commandos. Oh shit. Oh shit. Well, I'm dying of embarrassment. Who cares if Bucky knows I think he is hot. I collapse back into the sludge and I struggle to breathe. "They drugged me" I try to explain. The black glue tastes both disgustingly sour and like warm milk when I'm tired.

Bucky looks around wildly, feeling urgency in my voice and decided to go for a window. He grabbed a board in both hands, stopping short. He seemed shocked they were both flesh. He looked over at me. Then caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the window. He was Sergeant James Barnes. Bucky. Not the Winter Soldier. His hair is cut short with two flesh arms. He is built and strong but not a super soldier. He looks at himself in shock and then at me. "What is this?"

I struggle to stay awake, black sludge pulling me. "You're in my mind. Sometimes, it changes with what I am thinking about." I answered, focusing on breathing.

Bucky hesitated slightly before pulling at the boards. "When did you stop seeing me as the Winter Soldier. When did you start seeing me as Jamed "Bucky" Barnes?"

I can't shrug. I just let out a rush of breath. "I don't know. Steve never asked me to find the Winter Soldier. Only Bucky" He looks like that statement was profound to him but he shakes it off and grabs the wood on the window, ripping it off and clawing his way out. This time, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me through the window with him.

I am only barely aware of myself on the floor now. Unable to move. Unpresent eyes open but vacant. Bucky crawls out of me, Pulling a dream version of himself out of my body. The Hydra Captain is still stradling me, laughing softly, flicking his head up to the other agent. "We have our work cut out for us turning this sorry excuse of an agent into an asset." He leans forward grabbing a handful of my breast, weighing it and then shaping it like he's kicking the tires on a used car. "Maybe after the chair, we could send her to the red room for some lessons."

Bucky doesn't think before he reels back punching air through the man over me. I pull my dream self out of me on the floor, feeling the muck still all over me. Rolling and panting with effort I lean against the van opposite my real body, trying not to get pulled back in. Unable to actually get up. "You're not really here." I can't hold this for long. I think as I crumple a little and taste the muck again. Bucky looks from dream me to the real me unconscious on the floor taking in the blood. He turns and stalks toward the front of the car. He looks at the guard and then back at me. His jaw tenses, not liking either of the men in the car. He steps forward through the wall. Takes a look around and then reappears. He sticks his head through the wall again taking a look before returning. He moves quickly back over to me. "Okay. Get us back. Now."

I look at him with a far off gaze. I'm stuck. Everything hurts. Everything is heavy. He presses a soft flesh hand to my cheek. Strength flows into me from his bright blue eyes fixed on mine and I felt trust and something like light and heat poured into me. "Come on Dreamgirl, I need you to get us back. Right now. You can do this."

I wrap my arms around his neck and look deep into his blue eyes. I don't scream. For that I am very proud, but it does hurt, like I am ripping myself apart as I drag us back to the car. I am straddling his lap again, exhausted and so close to him, my hair falling in a curtain around our faces, gentle and intimate as my forehead meets his and I pant for air. In my real body I feel the dogtags lift off my chest. "Bucky…" I whisper. Catching his attention and both his hands come to cradle my face.

"You did great, Dreamgirl. Y/N that was perfect. We're gonna come get you now" He says, voice gentle and seeming to know how vulnerable I feel in that moment.

"No. Bucky...I think you should stop." I feel the hot tears slide down my face, voice firm but the hot panic and pain washes down my face anyway, separate from my floating numbed mind. "... I think you should tell Steve to stop the car." The Hydra agent rubs his finger over Bucky's dog tag, weakening the connection as he pulls it off my skin and lets his dirty thumb scrape across the raised letters. The feeling of it is like a bucket of ice water on me and Bucky can feel my fear. "It's a trap." I continue in a rush. "They want to do to Steve what they did to you" I don't want to die. I am so scared. But I also don't want this to happen to Steve or to Bucky again "Run. Leave me. Just Go."

I feel myself being pulled away. I know it is selfish but I lean forward and capture his lips. A deep soft kiss, fingers stroking the stubble of his cheek, tongue tangling and struggling to hold on for just a little longer as heat bubbles and boils deep inside me. I know I must taste desperate but I am so, whatever. I just want to kiss him. I want to have one moment. I won't wish I could kiss Steve too, but I dissolve into black goo, melting away from Bucky. Steve disappears, concentrating on driving, not even aware I was there.. Breaking the connection wasn't really my choice. The Hydra agent snaps the dog tags off my neck and severs me from them like a deep stab. Maybe that was best though. It was selfish to connect to them. Of course they would want to save me. They are heroes and I want to be saved. But it isn't worth it. I'm not worth both their lives. No matter how delicious Bucky tastes in my dreams.

Bang Bang Bang

Screeching tires and automatic rifle fire pull me from my fog. My head is pounding with pain arms screaming as the van's swirves and yanks me apart from the wall of the van. Rope around my chest and shoulders creaks against my chest and I find it so hard to get a pull for air, plastic cutting into my wrists unyielding against the wall of the truck. I choke on air and pain, watching the Hydra agent in front of me stumble. A loud bang reverberates through the entire metal shell, a huge dent on the roof of the van bends the metal in, sinking with what is obviously inhuman weight and power. Without hesitation both agents pull out their guns and fire up. I twist, kicking out and putting all the force I can muster into the back of the Hydra Captain's knee.

I feel a ripple of anger and something else pours in from the roof of the van as the Winter Soldier's bright silver arm punches a hole in the thin metal, peeling back a hole with little effort. Bucky drops in from the ceiling, arm up and catching the automatic fire from the Hydra agent once stationary on the bench, effortlessly as he stalks toward the man. I feel the power rolling off him like a tidal wave. It fills me up. The Hydra Captain raises his weapon towards Bucky's back but doesn't get a shot off before something hits the side of the van and we start to spin. I am pushed up against the wall now breathing hard and just waiting for everything to come to a stop. I'm drugged and groggy but as the Hydra man slides up against me I take the opportunity to wrap my legs around him. I kick hard, dislodging his handgun from his grip and twist up to try to shove him down. Somehow Bucky doesn't have to wait. As if he could defy physics he punches the guard, diverts the gunfire in a ballet of violence and silver. He rears back and with one strong leg kicks him back and out of the side doors with a snap. His leg lands again with an inhuman bang of icy strength that felt intentionally intimidating before turning his attention back to me.

More gunfire sprays outside and my heart pounds. The Hydra Captain was the one against me and he yanks me up by the hair, bowing me back as I reach the length of my hands tied to the wall, hovering up on my knees as best I can with a gun to my throat, stopping Bucky dead in his tracks. He looks almost scared. I wonder for a moment why. It's not like he has any investment in me at all. Except maybe making sure these people didn't use me to find him like Steve did. What would he really care if I was dead?

"That's enough" Spat the Hydra Captain. Bucky's blue eyes meet mine. I can't read him at all. I close my eyes and push my power out. I don't have anything left to do this safely. I pour my crippling fear into the man beside me with no protection and feel the backwash of energy suck back to me filled with hate and disgust. I have no energy to stem the tide of nightmare fodder that floods inside me but I just want to distract him from shooting me or Bucky. He's distracted and that is all it seems that Bucky needs. I lose track of what is happening. There are sounds and the weight is gone but my eyes are closed. I just feel a hard yank and the plastic straps snap off the side of the truck and my hands are free. I lock down the fear pouring out of me, and Bucky standing his wide body between me and the Hydra Captain who is back at play. Gun gone and blood pouring from a broken nose. I have no more energy to push it out and struggle to move with numb limps. I roll to the wall, grabbing Bucky's dog tags that have slid into a corner and palm them tight. Strength seems to pour into me, and I brace my back on the side of the van and I kick. All my strength and energy lashing out into the side of the bastard's knee. One trick pony maybe, but I don't got much in the way of options at the moment and it was that or ankle biting. I feel something snap and I feel Bucky's energy flow over me again. It's a warm spread of … pride maybe?...as he smirks down at me. Bucky reaches down, grabbing me by the straps of my binding that kept me trapped and pulls, lifting me with the ropes around my chest. I feel my weak feet scrape at the ground to find purchase but my feet can't grab the surface of the van or support my weight. He turned then reeled back, kicking the back door open with a ripple of power crawling over my skin. I'm not sure I can stand but in a moment's notice I don't have to worry about it because instead I'm flying through the air.

I watch in slow motion as Bucky turns, long hair caught in the wind from the now open back door as he swings his metal arm into the charging Hydra Captain and another two agents who must have poured in from the cabin with guns. It's weird that I worry about the sound of gunfire more than the fact that at any moment I'm gonna meet some very unforgiving concrete and I am NOT a super soldier. In fact, the drugs in my system aren't even letting me feel right now. Maybe that is why I stay limp. I guess I don't have to worry about that though. Steve's strong arms snatch me out of the air pulling me to ground and everything goes dark as he holds me close, both of us curled up behind his shield. The bang of automatic gun fire rings off the vibranium just millimeters away from me and I swallow in air trying desperately to process the shock of being thrown out of a truck. "Bucky threw me out of a moving truck" actually appears to be all that will come out of my mouth.

I feel Steve laugh softly. "It wasn't moving very fast," he offered, a boyish smile on his face. "Stay here" He starts to pull the shield off his arm, he's gonna give it to me?

"No." I shake my head. "Steve, you're gonna need that." I'm not gonna be conscious much longer anyway. The blood from my side is thick and warm and new. I don't know when but the pain is blocked by the sedative and I should be feeling more than I am. He looks at me with worry. "Go. Help Bucky"

Steve nods, pulling me back behind a parked car. He flinches as I barely respond and then suddenly jerks quickly, blocking more gunfire for both of us before handing me a gun. I wrap my fingers around it feeling the cool grip gives me confidence and the shots ringing in my ears give me a shot of adrenaline to push through the fog of the sedative deep in my mind. I feel a stronger connection to Steve buzz across the gun in my hand and also feel a sense of strength again. Wait. Maybe this isn't just adrenaline?

I looked up over the edge of the car watching Steve and his bright shield take the attention back on himself. He's distracting them from me.

There are two other vans spilling unmarked black tactical officers but Bucky and Steve were a fucking amazing thing to see together. Steve was all grace and power, avoiding blows, redirecting, methodical and smooth with precision in his shield that seemed to defy physics. Bucky caught his shield and returned it, fighting with beefy power, His vibranium arm a little slower but still superhuman fast and of course strong. I watch the ballet of them, remembering from the dream the way they fought once upon a time in the war. Bucky didn't hide behind Cap then and he didn't now. He always stepped up to protect him, trusted in his plan, and fell into sync with him. I am reminded now that they haven't done this thing that they are doing now in the better part of a century but Steve still uses the shield to block bullets meant for Bucky. Bucky still shoots with deadly accuracy just above and to Steve's right.

The Hydra Captain rolls out of the broken van, it looks like his arm is broken cradled against him and he limps trying to get away and I feel myself roll with fear. I should shoot him. I should stop him. I take aim, but I can't keep the gun steady and he ducks behind a car. I missed. I watch Steve falter for a moment, glancing back at me, Bucky's ice blue eyes meeting mine. I swallow and shrink back, putting a tighter lock down on the emotions coming out of me. I hide again and listen to a little more fighting and shooting while my heart pounds. They do not need my fear, they don't need my pain. I remind myself over and over waiting with an iron grip on myself and my gun, leaning against the tire and counting to ten over and over. I can survive for ten seconds. Just ten more seconds. When I get down to ten I start again and just count.

One. Gunfire. Two. Crunching metal. Three. The whirr of Bucky's arm. Four. The ring of Cap's shield bouncing on metal. Five The smack of flesh on flesh. Six. Tire squeal. It isn't too long before Bucky is back around the corner of the car, long strides eating up the pavement as he runs toward me. "Hey there Dreamgirl" he says, a light smile just barely gracing his face. He's trying not to scare me, or he's forgotten how to smile, I'm not sure which. "Steve called in Avenger reinforcements to clean up, we gotta go."

He holds out his hand to me and I take it, but standing is a lot harder than I expect it to be and I feel myself fall back toward the hood of the car head swimming as my pain shocks across the surface of Bucky's skin. He doesn't hesitate to lean down and prepare to carry me.

"Buck" Steve's voice interrupts him as he leans forward, the blond's eyes soft but firm. "Wait." He repeats, looking at me with a slow drag of a keen eye. "She can't run like this."

"I know." I answer, feeling groggy, speech slurred and almost drunk, "He was gonna carry me..." I feel them looking at me, concerned, their doubt flowing into my skin like a sad river of hot cocoa.

"Then we'll have to steal a car." He quipped, pulling me off my feet with ease. The same safe feeling from the hotel settles over me, I curl my fingers around his backpack straps trying to keep my body from being floppy and hard to carry. My exhaustion and the sedative overpower the adrenaline in my system and I feel everything compress into darkness.

I'm in the woods. In the dark and anger boils through me. He got away. These morons around me have ruined the most important mission of my lifetime. I am swept with fear. My reputation, everything is on the line. Hydra needs the Winter Soldier. Hydra needs to get him back and this mess needs to be fixed. It took nearly twenty years to break the man inside my monster and I will do it again if I must. The subordinate next to me is talking. I don't want to fucking hear it. I shoot him in the head. Ice in my heart, not just that. I like it. I lift my gun and shoot again. I know them. I trained some of them. I don't care. They are all fucking idiots. The last one looks me in the eye and the betrayal feels delicious as I watch the light in his eyes fall away. I eject the clip from my gun, loading in a new one and pulling back the slide to load a bullet into the chamber.

Now it is me or Him. It's the pleasure of looking at the body's cooling that drives me from the memory back to the van. The Captain. His name is Hughes. His hand is tight in my hair. I can feel he is only hesitant to kill me because of the mission. At this point thought he will get the Winter Soldier. Alive or dead.

Bucky stops when he threatens me and that gives him pause. Interesting. I pull back from the memory turned nightmare.

I'm looking at Bucky in Cryo Status. I hate him. Why is he the perfect soldier. I am the perfect soldier. No this isn't me. This is a nightmare. I pull back.

Bucky is still, perfectly still, eyes far away. His voice is dangerous honey when he says in deep rumbling Russian he is ready to comply. I slam my fist across his face. He does nothing. "Good boy." I whisper. Wrapping my fingers around his jaw. "If you fight me, you go back in the ice." I explode out of the memory, ripping myself awake.

I feel the world curl back around me, hushed voices nearby speaking and the slow hmm of the road. I pull and feel myself constrained, a pressure on my chest holding me back and I feel a wave of nausea, fear and panic wash through me. Not again. Damn it.

"You feel that?" Bucky's voice changes, a little louder and concerned.

"Yeah, I do. What is that?" Steve responds, I hear rustling and Bucky's response. is clear but also strangely accurate.

"Y/N. She's awake and She's scared." He explains as I hear a click and drag my eyes open struggling to calm myself. I feel stupid that I am straped in to a seatbelt in the backseat of a minivan, not hog tied in a cargo van. I let out a long breath as Steve settles into the seat next to me and reaches out to pull me up and help me reposition. I lul my head onto his shoulder, eyes barely open, but I can breathe better now everything is all pain and sticky heat. Steve is awkwardly squeezed into the space beside me, his long legs pressed look uncomfortable but his attention is on me, petting my hair gently.

"Sorry" I respond, taking a deep breath of the smell of Steve's sweat and gunfire. "I didn't know where I was for a second. Thought I was tied up in the van again."

"Well, you're not" Responded Bucky, a little ice in his voice. "She's gonna need some water and food. That sedative gives a hell of a hangover"

I try to close myself down, pulling the door in my mind shut against Steve skin. and the feel of Bucky's dog tags back around my neck. He isn't wrong though, I am hungry and thirsty and I just want to shimmer in a doze rather than face reality.

"Hey Dreamgirl-" He says louder. "You need to try and stay awake for us" Bucky says, adjusting his rearview mirror to keep an eye on my new position.

"I'm awake" I say my words with a shaky breath into the Captain's neck. His arm feels good around me.

"How come I can't feel you anymore?" Steve asks, his hand seeking a patch of my skin on my arm to trace with his fingertips.

"Yeah." Bucky adds, flipping on his turn signal and pulling off the highway, he is all smooth like a good soccer mom in the spacious minivan. "Me either." He comes to a slow stop at the stop light.

I nod. "Yeah….sorry. I didn't mean to leave my guard down. Happens sometimes, drug interactions always get a little dicey." I watch Buck lean over, producing a small bottle of water from the passenger seat and a protein bar tossing it to Steve as the light turns green. "When I get sedated. It really messes with my control." Steve catches the items gracefully with one hand. Biceps flexing and his chest tightening under my cheek. Now that is messing with my control. Nothing hotter than a man catching shit. "There was a pretty weird day at the dentist once, no more laughing gas for me." I add with a nervous chuckle and immediately stop my babbling.

Steve strokes my skin again, opening the bottle and offering it to me. "You don't have to be sorry. It was...it was kinda nice. Felt like I knew where you were without having to check."

I laugh softly, taking a slow drink. Steve juts his chin toward the brunette and I feel a note of jealousy in his voice but struggle not to open myself to investigate. "How come Bucky seems to get a stronger read on you than me?"

Bucky smirks, "I told him it's because you like me more. That you have a poster of me in your mind like a teenage girl crush" I feel him wink more than see it, flirty and sweet.

I don't have much force in me but I rear back and kick the center back of the drivers seat smirking in satisfaction as the former winter soldier jumps with a sudden huff of air and lets out a laugh. Steve chuckles as well and I look at him with an eye roll and tap the dogtags under my shirt. "Nah. Something of his." I answer, pointing at Cap's shield propped against the back of the passenger seat at Steve's feet. "If I touch that...you would light up like a Christmas tree."

Steve looks like he considers it carefully before opening the protein bar and holding it up to my mouth. "Maybe later, you gotta rest right now."

Bucky chuckles, muttering "Dear Santa..." pulling back into traffic with a hot look in the mirror as his best friend mutters for him to shut up under his breath. The super soldier heard him just fine.

I fell asleep again, warm against Steve's shoulder, his thumb brushing against my skin. I'm not sure how long I am out, but this time when I wake up Steve is driving, there are shopping bags in the seat around me and Bucky is in the passenger seat. I've been cleaned up some

"Sam said the guy you described was not there" Steve says, speaking quietly, as they probably don't want to wake me.

"Y/N broke his knee and I practically tore his arm off. You're telling me he walked away from that?" Bucky announces growling in exasperation. "That guy. That guy isn't gonna stop."

Steve grips the steering wheel and I can hear the leather creek. Bucky is about to add more when he looks back at me, surprised at meeting my open eyes. "Hey there. Good morning dreamgirl." Steve glances back in the rearview mirror, and I smile back as I shift and sit up.

"Hughes got away?" I ask, a little fear creeping into my voice.

Bucky shifts a little, his leather jacket is gone and his top shirt had been discarded, He's wearing a casual red crew neck now and, his long hair is brushed back and up in a manbun, only a few strands falling out to frame his open face with bright blue eyes. Steve is wearing a different shirt, loose plaid hiding the thickness of his arms and a ballcap firmly on his head. "God...how long was I out?" I ask, looking between them, too bad I missed the show.

Bucky laughs, reaching back to toss me a bag of clothes. I can't help myself when I catch the bag. "Oh No. How much skin exactly will I be showing when I put on what is in this bag?"

"I told you we should have gotten her the lingerie." Bucky smirks head lolled back so I could see his smile and still peer at Steve with his bright, easy leer.

"Bucky, behave." Steve murmured, glancing into the mirror. "Y/N? Who is Hughes.?" I open the bag and feel a wash of relief. It is just regular looking clothes, some baby wipes, an open first aid kit and deodorant.

I unhook my seat belt and peel off my soiled shirt I leave my bra on. I don't really feel self conscious because both the men in the front seat have seen me in their dreams, which to be honest is kinda as good as real for me. Plus my modest bra is utilitarian and nothing worse than a bathing suit. "Hughes...The guy from the woods. He held a gun to my throat and I got some stuff from him I didn't intend to when I distracted him"

I wipe down my dirty scraped skin, cleaning off the blood and dirt efficiently and stop talking as I feel the roll of lust and then anger from the front seat and glance up. Steve is gripping the steering wheel hard and Bucky isn't looking at my breasts as I might expect but the deep mottleds bruises across the skin of my side, arm and clavicle. My skin is sore, blooming into beautiful colors of green and purple. "Excuse me" I snap at the Winter Soldier getting his bright blue attention. "My boobs are up here thank you very much."

That gets the laugh I was looking for. "Really...im fine." I check on the bandage on my side, a clean slice from a knife that hurt like a punch in the gut, but honestly it's fine.

I grab the soft oversized grey shirt from the bag and pull it over my head. The worlds disappears as the fabric surrounds me, but not before I see both Steve and Bucky broke into big wide smiles, laughing the tension away from the moment. As soon as the soft grey fabric hits my skin it feels fucking electric. This isn't a new shirt. I look down at the faded Captain America logo. Breathe in. Breathe out. FUCK. As suddenly as the blink of an eye I feel connected to Steve like a raging wildfire. The connection is open like an oven, lust, protectiveness, fantasy, love, adoration, heat, everything I feel for him is out in the open, unguarded and unrestrained. My devotion feels riped out of me like I am inside our. Bucky tags burns my sternum still. Desire, and heat, pool there but he is so guarded and scared of himself and his past it is easy to keep it from spilling over. Steve's deep voice is confused for a moment. "Buck, I thought you said you got her a shirt, that was from my bag."

I close my eyes, breathing deep. "Yeah." Bucky replied, and I can hear the smile in his voice. "Looked like something you have had for a while." I grabbed onto the seats with tight hand all of a sudden, struggling to hold the door of my mind shut tight. I am too tired to hold on though, my body is wrung out and my control is shot by the drugs and the overuse. I am too tired to keep my emotions to myself with all the connection of Steve Rodgers around me, on half my body, burning and calling. This shirt feels so intimate it is like him naked wrapped around me.

Steve looks confused for a moment before he blinks suddenly feeling the wave of it crash over him as I utterly fail to hold the door shut. Desire, adoration, the crush I have on him that I can't hold back. "Oh." He whispers a quick tilt of the head as he readjusts himself in the seat. It pours out of me in an instant. Every dirty fantasy I've never wanted to admit to. Every ounce of lust rushed out of me uncontrolled and unstoppable. He looks flustered as he stiffens trying to keep from swerving while driving, both hands griping the wheel at 10 and 2.

"Merry Fucking Christmas Stevie." Bucky says with a knowing smirk and suddenly rage erupts from me absolutely unbridled. I couldn't stop the flood of emotion but I was absolutely relieved when it flipped into something else.

"That wasn't funny, Bucky." I snap. I tear the dogtags off my chest and throw them at Bucky's head. My breath is marathon fast as I pull the shirt off panting and dig around the bag for something else feeling hot tears threaten behind my eyes. I grab a brand new shirt with tags and pull it over my head. It's still oversized and comfortable, but there is no connection to Bucky or Steve. I honestly feel heavy and broken and lonely with it on. I fall back struggling for air, closing my eyes tight. I shut everything down. I don't want to see Bucky or Steve. I burn with horror and embarrassment. I realise for the first time I must have been far more open to Bucky and a little to Steve through the dog tags the entire time. I feel anger and shame at myself for doing that. I should not have worn them for so long. I feel rage boil in me. I am such an idiot.

"Oh hey…" Bucky's voice is soft. He knows he fucked up, "I'm sorry Dreamgirl-"

I know I am being stupid the moment, I do, but I can't stop myself the feeling of betrayal rolling through me. I am absolutely mortified. He took advantage of my vulnerability and poured out my insides onto Steve. I am fully aware the two of them are in love and I have absolutely zero chance with either of them. 1940's Bucky was a huge flirt and I know dreams are more real to me but not to them. I let him into my mind and he just blew that trust apart in an instant. Worst of all I feel dirty and used. Like my fantasy was something he wanted Steve to see so they could laugh at me. I cut him off and refuse to open my eyes. I just stay cut off with ice in my chest. "Don't call me that."

The brunette shifts to move but Steve's arm is stretched out on his chest. "That's enough. Let's all just calm down." I feel something between them, quite but I can't hear past the sound of my own heartbeat and shame. "Buck. She's still got a ton of meds in her. She doesn't have control of her magic and you just lit her up like the fourth of july. That wasn't very fair." He glances in the rearview mirror and I can feel his gaze on me. I feel seen and understood and try not to let that shatter me as I hide my eyes.

I see the realisation hit Bucky and his eyes and face shut down. He looks almost scary and hard. I realise every other time I have seen this face I have had the dog tags. I had known what he was feeling and now I regret throwing them in his face.

"I'm sorry." he says, eyes breaking casting down. Shame rolls off him and I slam my mind shut. Fuck that. No. I don't want any of it. I cross my arms and slide over from the center of the bench seat to as far behind Steve as I can. If there wasn't more stuff in the third row I would move there. I buckle myself in. Bag forgotten. I no longer trust what he handed me. He looks at the bag and back to Steve. The blonde shakes his head slightly. I cross my arms. Let out a shaky breath.

"Don't worry about it. You didn't know what would happen." I offer, just taking a moment to build my walls back up. Soon. Now.

Steve peers at me closely, in the mirror, eyes glancing back at the road. "Y/N?" He asks into the mirror, waiting for him to meet me.

I can't though. I am still raw, and still trying to build back up everything inside me that could protect myself. "No." I told him. "Later. Just. Not now Steve." I take a breath in, let a breath out I feel myself burning and I hold back the urge to do something horrible. I know I could hurt Bucky if I wanted to. I clamp down on my tongue struggling to shove down the piece of me that is petty and unfair. He wasn't wrong. It would have been sweet even if Steve was in a position to love me back. Maybe he was just trying to be a good wingman and get his best friend laid. I don't care right in this moment. I'll forgive him later. Not now. "Just. Not now. I'll be okay, just not right now"

I breathe slowly, measured, trying to calm my heart. I reacted far too strongly to all of that and I regret it already. I lean against the window, pressing the cool glass against my overheated face. I won't lie. The sudden reality that those dogtags let me feel them both was a reminder I did not have a clear head before. The two of them were so strongly linked together, Bucky's token has also let me feel Steve. That had never happened to me before but it said a lot about what I had wedged myself into.