Hydra comes creeping around the edges of Bucky's dreams, but Steve is there to chase the darkness away.

Like so many of his nightmares, it took Bucky a while to realize that what he was seeing wasn't real and that he could get out. It took him a few more minutes to figure out how to do that, and he hovered somewhere trapped between asleep and awake. In his semi-conscious state, he couldn't remember where he would be when he did wake up, and if the person whose presence he could sense was going to try to hurt him. He lashed out when they touched him, and the frightened gasp that he didn't think was his that accompanied the gesture was enough to finally pull him the rest of the way into awareness.

Bucky's eyes quickly adjusted to the dark room, and they landed on the fingers of his metal hand that were locked around Steve's skinny little wrist like a vice. Steve looked terrified, but he was visibly trying to force it down and speak as slowly and calmly as he could muster, saying, "It's okay, Bucky, it's okay. It's just me; it's Steve. You're okay. You're gonna be okay, but you need to wake up," over and over again.

Bucky gasped and jerked his hand away, letting go of Steve. Big Steve knew better than to touch Bucky when he was having a nightmare, but Little Steve didn't, and Bucky could have really hurt him. No wonder he looked so scared!

As soon as Bucky let go, Steve quickly backed away a couple of steps, holding his arm against his chest. "Bucky?" he asked carefully. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah," Bucky said, rolling back and sitting up to put some more distance between himself and Steve. "I'm sorry, Stevie, I'm so—did I hurt you?"

Steve took just a hair too long to shake his head and Bucky felt his heart dropping into his stomach.

"Steve?" he pressed.

Steve looked down at the floor. "A little," he said softly. Nausea churned in Bucky's gut and Steve looked up and hurried on to reassure him. "No, but I'm okay," he insisted, holding up the arm Bucky had grabbed. "See?" He waved it back and forth quickly. "It's not broke or anything; you just squeezed it really hard."

Bucky closed his eyes and shook his head, imagining the hand-shaped bruise forming on his pale skin, even if he couldn't see it in the dark. "Steve, I'm so sorry."

"S'okay," Steve told him. "I know you didn't mean to." Bucky still couldn't look at him, and after a minute, he felt a tentative little hand come to rest on his knee. "That must have been a really bad nightmare, huh?"

"Yeah," Bucky sighed.

Steve pulled his hand away and Bucky opened his eyes when his mattress shifted to see Steve climbing up onto his bed. Steve wriggled his way under Bucky's arm and wrapped his arms around his torso. "Whatever it was, it's okay now," he said, hugging him tightly.

Bucky couldn't help smiling a little at that, though he still felt sick over what he'd just done. "Steve, I just hurt you," he said. "Are you sure—"

"Yes," Steve said firmly before Bucky could finish the question. He shifted a little closer to him and hugged him more tightly to back up his point. "You didn't mean to, an' I forgive you," he said. He smiled up at him. "And if you have another bad dream, I'll just throw a sock at you or something to wake you up instead."

That surprised a chuckle out of Bucky, and Steve smiled a little wider. "Okay," Bucky agreed. "I'm still really sorry."

"I know," Steve said. He leaned his head against Bucky's arm. "It's okay."

They just sat there for a minute. Usually, Bucky was a lot shakier after a nightmare, but he'd been distracted by making sure Steve was okay. That didn't mean it had negated the nausea or the tremors or the need to start crying or screaming, and Bucky drew in a shaky breath as he felt it all rolling in. He'd been getting better at these, but they still came far too often for his liking, and he'd been wondering what would happen when they showed up where Little Steve could see them. Nothing good, as it turned out.

"You wanna talk about it?" Steve offered, one hand starting to rub circles up and down Bucky's back as shivers raced along his spine.

"Not really," Bucky said, and he wouldn't have wanted to even if Steve had been big, but if he started talking now he would traumatize the little guy.

"Okay," Steve said. "You don't have to. But it was pretty scary, huh?"

"Yeah," Bucky whispered. A voice was still screaming in the back of his head, and he was too afraid to look closer and see if it was him doing the screaming, or if it was him making someone else scream. He tried to draw in a deep breath to steady himself. "But it's over now. I'm okay. I'm sorry I woke you up. You can go back to bed."

Steve snorted softly and tilted his head up to give him a look that really wasn't that different than when Big Steve did it. "You should lay back down," he said, evidently choosing not to dignify Bucky's foolish remark any further.

When Bucky didn't comply, Steve gave him a shove, and Bucky laughed to himself and slowly stretched back out on the mattress. Though Bucky had just told him to go back to bed, he suddenly felt achingly alone when Steve shifted and got off the mattress. Steve never left him alone after a nightmare, and while it was true that he was too small now to wrap his arms around Bucky and shield him from the world, just the tangible presence of someone who cared about him was enough to help keep the darkness away.

In the split second it took Bucky to feel all of that, Steve had picked something up off the floor and then climbed back up onto the bed again. "Okay," he said, crawling carefully over Bucky to sit between him and the wall. "First," he said, picking up one of Bucky's extra pillows and reaching over to place it between Bucky and the edge of the bed. "We'll put that there. It's like a wall, so nothing can get you," he explained. "Then…" He reached over and tucked something soft against Bucky's chest. "You can borrow Franklin the Second." The bear would appear to be what he had picked up off the floor.

"Steve, I don't—" Bucky began.

"He doesn't mind," Steve assured him, and Bucky couldn't tell if he was genuinely or intentionally misinterpreting Bucky's protest, but he let it lie. The bear was awfully soft.

Steve was shifting again, struggling a little to pull the covers back up, but he managed, and shifted up onto his knees to pull them up and tuck them around Bucky. "There," he said, patting Bucky's shoulder. "You're all safe now." He settled down next to Bucky's head. "And I'm gonna sit right here. And everything's gonna be okay," he said soothingly.

"Steve," Bucky started to protest, but he wasn't really sure what he was protesting.

"Shh," Steve soothed, starting to card his little fingers back through Bucky's hair. "It's okay. You don't have to be scared now," he said softly. "Hydra can't hurt you any more."

Bucky swallowed down a knot in his throat. Steve really had no idea what he was fighting here, but that didn't put even the smallest dent in his determination to make it all better. And it was amazing what that soft, sweet little voice could do against the demons raging in Bucky's head.

"I'm here," Steve assured him. "It's okay." He kept up his gentle stroking of Bucky's hair. "Mr. Thor's songs from Asgard work real good to help you feel better, but I don't know the words to those. So I'm gonna sing you one of ma's. Those work real good too," he finished quietly.

Before Bucky could say anything, Steve cleared his throat softly and started singing gently. There was a Gaelic lilt to the words that reminded him of Sarah Rogers, sending his mind back to a simpler time when he was just a little boy, and a woman with kind eyes and a warm smile who loved him like he was her other son.

Peace started rolling through Bucky's soul, and instead of arguing that, really, Steve, he was an adult and he was fine and he could take care of himself, he allowed his eyes to close. He let himself really feel how warm and secure he felt right now, behind this little wall of pillows and blankets and teddy bears that Steve had built. He let himself just listen to Steve breathing slow and steady and to the words he was singing softly. He let himself relax under the little fingers brushing gently through his hair. This wasn't how he normally handled his nightmares, but he'd be lying if he said it wasn't working.

And, safe and protected from the darkness, Bucky fell asleep.

When he woke up the next morning, Steve was wrapped around him again like the little octopus he was. Though, how he'd managed to get one of his legs underneath Bucky's head without waking him up—and how in the world that was comfortable—Bucky wasn't quite sure. Bucky smiled and yawned and closed his eyes again, bringing one hand up to rest on Steve's back. Steve made a happy, sleepy little snuffle and nuzzled his head against Bucky's chest, and Bucky patted his back and went back to sleep.

Steve may be a lot littler now, but he's still got his Bucky well looked after.

Up next, Steve has a little allergy scare, but Tony's going to get him to the hospital with time to spare, even if he has to fly through a couple of windows to do it.