Author's Note: Surprise! Two posts in one night! I'm sorry if I've overwhelmed you all, but I just couldn't help it. I was on a roll, and I liked where this was going. I hope you all like it too! This is the second or third version of this scene I've gone through.
. . .
Bucky's breath caught in his throat as he thrashed in his sleep. Sweat soaked his hair and the collar of his undershirt. His eyes flicked wildly behind his closed eyes, and his brows knit together. "No, please," he mumbled. A tear mixed with the sweat glistening at his temple. "No!" He screamed and writhed, nightmare memories of electric pulses scraping through his veins.
Steve ran into the room and tried shaking him awake. Bucky fought against him, kicking wildly. The blankets slid to the floor. "Bucky, it's just a dream," Steve tried again. Bucky's eyes snapped open, but he was still in the grip of the nightmare. His hand slipped beneath his pillow and retrieved the dagger he always slept with. Steve tried to duck away, but Bucky wrapped his fist in Steve's shirt, pulled him close, and held the blade to his throat. The pinpoint tip grazed against Steve's Adam's apple. A droplet of blood trickled to his collarbone. Steve held as still as he could, leaning as far from the knife as Bucky's grip would allow. "Bucky, it's Steve. Wake up. It's Steve. You're having a nightmare."
The snarl on Bucky's face dissolved into horror as reality came crashing in on him. The knife clattered dully on the wooden floor, and his grip loosened. "Steve?"
"Yeah. It's me."
"Oh, God." Bucky let him go. "Oh, shit. Steve. I—oh, God." He buried his face in his hands before running them through his hair, gripping fistfuls at his temples. "Oh, shit, Steve. What did I do?"
"It's nothing. You were having a nightmare."
Bucky dropped his hands to wrap his arms around his stomach. He looked up at Steve with tear-glazed eyes. "You're bleeding. I cut you." He shook his head, eyes wide in fear. Steve took a step closer, and Bucky recoiled, stopping Steve short. "No. Stay away."
Steve held his hands up in defense. "Look at me, Bucky. I'm okay." He kept his voice soft and low. "It was only a nightmare. You weren't in control, but now you are. I promise you, it's okay." Bucky began shaking violently, and Steve picked the blankets off the floor and draped them over Bucky's shoulders. Then he turned to the door.
"You're leaving." Bucky tried to hide his disappointment, but he didn't blame Steve.
"No. I'm just shutting the door. I'll stay as long as you want." And he let the door shut with a soft click before returning to Bucky. "Do you need anything? A glass of water?" He gestured to the pitcher on the bedside table. Bucky shook his head. He was rocking back and forth lightly, avoiding Steve's gaze. Steve sat on the foot of the bed, slowly and carefully. He watched Bucky, unsure of what to do.
They sat in silence for several minutes before Bucky finally glance at Steve. "I had a nightmare." Steve nodded. Bucky nodded once to affirm for himself. "We're taking Zola down tomorrow."
"Yes."
"He was there. In my nightmare." Bucky dropped his gaze.
"I'll say it again. You do not have to go. Stay here and get some rest. Keep Peggy company. It'll be a short mission, and Howard will have us back by the afternoon."
"No." Bucky looked at Steve directly in the eye. "I'm not leaving you."
"The other commandos will be there."
"No." Bucky shook his head again. "You don't know what Zola's capable of. He gets into your mind and tears you apart little by little. He chips away at your very soul."
"I wouldn't let that happen."
"But it could." He licked his lower lip. "He did it to me, and I won't let him have you."
Steve frowned. "I get the feeling there's something else you're not saying."
Bucky glanced at Steve before looking away again. The muscles in his jaw twitched. "I can't," he mumbled.
"You can't do what?" Bucky didn't respond, and Steve tried to reach for his arm to grab his attention. Bucky pulled away again.
"Please don't."
Steve sighed. "I'm trying to help you. Please. Let me help you."
"I can't." Bucky finally looked at Steve squarely. "I don't know how. I don't have the words. Maybe Peggy could tell you," he spat, filling Peggy's name with all the venom he could muster.
"What's Peggy got to do with this?"
"Never mind."
"No. I've never seen you like this. Tell me what's going on, or I'll find a way to make you stay behind."
Bucky glared at Steve. "You don't know anything, do you? After all this time." Steve just watched Bucky, waiting for him to say what was on his mind. Bucky picked at the threads of the blanket, not looking at Steve again. He willed the words to come, but the jammed in his chest and scrambled in his brain. Nothing seemed adequate. Nothing could convey what he'd known for a while now, had grown to accept. Then waged the war of possibilities. What-if scenarios played through his mind, and few had desirable outcomes. Was the truth worth losing Steve?
He glanced up and saw Steve staring patiently. His blue eyes seemed brighter than usual, and eyebrows pulled up in concern, forming a deep crease. His hair stuck up in the back where the pillow pushed against it. The white, US army issued tee shirt pulled tight against his chest and struggled against his biceps. The hint of scruff shadowed his jawline.
"Bucky?"
He didn't think. Thinking would stop him. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Steve's. His heart pounded in his throat and adrenaline turned his limbs to ice then fire. His palm instinctively caressed the back of Steve's neck, resting the pad of his thumb against the corner of his jaw. He knew Steve wasn't kissing him back, so he let him go and sat back against the headboard. He refused to look at Steve's reaction.
"Bucky?" His voice was gruff, but gentle.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking."
. . .
Families crowded around the train, packed onto the platform. Bucky stood straight as could be, scanning the crowd. His ten year old sister, Rebecca, clung to his arm. His mother straightened his cap.
"Be good, you hear me?"
"Yes, mama."
She toyed with his tie, smoothing it out and adjusting it, even though it was already perfect. "Look at you, my handsome baby boy." Tears pooled at the corners of her eyes. "I am so proud of you."
"Thank you, mama." He smiled down at her. Rebecca tugged at him, and he knelt down to her level.
"Be careful. Promise you'll be careful. I don't want to hear about my idiot brother getting blown apart by Nazi scum. Alright?"
"Rebecca!" scolded Mrs. Barnes.
Bucky smiled. "I promise. But you have to promise me you'll take care of mom, alright?" She nodded. "I got you something." He fished inside his pocket and pulled out a block of chocolate. He grinned at her wide eyes and open glee. "Don't go eating it all at once. You'll get sick." She nearly tackled him with a hug. "I got you something else." She leaned back to see him holding out a silver chain with a locket. The name "Barnes" was etched into the front in swirled writing.
She cupped it in her soft hands as though it might shatter. With a soft click, she opened it to see the face of her parents on one side and Bucky on the other. "This is the most gorgeous gift I've ever seen." She hugged him tighter. When she finally let him go, the front of his uniform was damp from her tears. "Promise you'll come back."
"I promise."
"You better. Who else is gonna stop me from doing stupid stuff?"
Bucky grinned as he stood to pull Steve into a hug. "You came?"
Steve smirked up at him. "Yeah. I had to tell you you're terrible at goodbyes. 'Don't do anything stupid'? What kind of goodbye is that?"
Bucky laughed. "Yeah, well, you know." He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "I meant it, though. I can't be here to save your ass."
The whistle blew, the train creaked and groaned, and a nearby usher called for boarding. Steve stood aside as Bucky hugged his mother and sister one last time. He grumbled when his mother kissed his cheek and rubbed her red lipstick away. He looked at Steve once more, resisting the urge to pull him into another hug. Steve smirked and waved as Bucky was being herded onto the train. He rushed up the steps and into the first window seat he could find and leaned out to watch his family as the platform faded away.