Bucky pulled himself from the nightmare. You're awake. It's safe here. You're awake. But he didn't feel awake. It felt like a dream within a dream. He was terrified, and in his terror he threw off the blankets. They were too tight and too close and going to hold him down. Pin him to the table, shackle him, hit him, stick needles in his arm, wipe his mind.

Bucky gasped and grabbed the pillow for comfort. He wanted to go and find someone. He needed someone to tell him everything was going to be alright, but his fear left him paralysed and speechless. Other nights in the past week, or close enough to, that he'd been at Stark Tower's he'd called out in his sleep, screamed, yelled, loudly fought the sheets, the ghosts in the dark, and Steve would come running in to turn on the light and make the monsters go away, but tonight he could hear no footsteps; he hadn't made a noise, so no one knew he needed them. Steve had convinced Tony that Bucky wasn't a threat, so the surveillance from Jarvis had been toned down. Bucky lay in the darkness for a few more minutes before something within him forced him to sit up. He had to go to Steve. He had to see someone else. It didn't matter that this was his room, with clothes and shoes and sheets; right now it felt too much like a lonely, empty cell.

Bucky swung his legs out of the bed. His mind began to race. What if they were waiting for him? What if it was all just a trap, to build him up, give him hope, then rip it all away from him? It wouldn't be unlike them. He couldn't cope if that was true. He wouldn't. He knew how to use gun, and he knew where he'd aim it, just as soon as he'd taken out as many of them as possible.

No. This was Stark Towers, the logical part of his brain told him. Since arriving here, he'd only left the building a handful of times to go running with Steve. Even if they were watching him, they'd be mad to make a grab for him, with one hardly being able to turn a corner without bumping into an Avenger. Bucky had been filled in briefly on the Avenger's past, and had to accept that if anyone could protect him from Hydra, they could. You're safe here, he tried to reassure himself. Steve is here. They can't get you. They don't even know you're here. Go and wake Steve.

Bucky stood up and walked silently across his room to the door and opened it. The hallway was dim, with the only light coming from the night light of New York City streaming in through the full-length window at the end of the hall. Bucky dashed across the hallway to Steve's room, opened the door and went inside, closing the door quietly behind himself. Steve's room was much darker than the hallway, with the blackout curtains removing almost all light, other than a pale grey line, no more than half an inch, between the curtains and the floor.

Steve, Bucky tried to say, but nothing came out. He reached out to try and touch his friend, to shake him awake, when in Bucky's mind Steve's feint outline sat up and morphed into one of the nameless handlers who had 'managed' Bucky over the years. Bucky stumbled back and crashed into something. The handler approached him, going to strike. The Asset tried to retreat and crashed into the wall. He couldn't run, they always caught him if he tried to run and they didn't care what they had to do to catch him.

Bucky.

No, no, he was gone. They know when I think about him. The Asset couldn't think of him. He fumbled in the dark. No one would come. No one would save him.

Bucky!

Try not to fight. It's always worse when you fight. The Asset swung blindly in the dark, hitting something, hoping it wasn't one of them, knowing that they'd only hit him harder if he had got them.

Bucky!

One of them tried to grab him, but he pushed them away violently. The Asset sunk down against the wall to try to protect himself. He pulled his knees up to his chest and tried to protect his head from the incoming blows with his arms. Any moment now, they'd stick him with a needle, and it would all be over…

"Bucky!"

The light went on and Bucky's mind snapped back to reality.

"Bucky! Bucky, it's alright. It's me, it's Steve. It's alright."

Bucky forced himself to look up, and saw Steve standing in front of him, hands raised. "I can't breath." Bucky gasped.

"I know." Steve said, "I know, it's alright now. It's alright," Steve turned and slid down the wall to sit next to Bucky, who had put his head back down on his knees."I'm here now. It's alright." The Captain gave Bucky's shoulder a squeeze. "You're not gunna be sick again are you?"

Bucky shook his head as he fought to control his breathing. He closed his eyes tightening and slowly opened them again, trying to keep away the tears. "I'm sorry," he murmured after a few minutes, looking up. "I - I think I knocked over some of your things."

Steve laughed in relief. "Oh Buck, it really doesn't matter."

Bucky wiped his eyes. "I can't do it again."

"You won't have to. You're not alone any more, Buck. Everyone here wants to help you. Will help you." Steve said sincerely.

"You don't give up, do you?"

"Nope."

Bucky let out a sob. He leant against Steve, feeling relief wash through him. Perhaps, if he could keep his head in the real world, maybe it really would be ok. "Will you tell them what happened?"

"I - sort of have to."

"I know," Bucky sighed, resting his head against Steve's shoulder, "I just wish it didn't have to be like this."

"I know." Steve sighed.

"Did I do that to the wall?" Bucky asked, noticing a crack in the plaster.

"Yeah."

"Sorry."

"Doesn't matter."

"Just move the draws to hide it."

"Eh, Stark'll just get someone in to fix it."

"Yeah, I s'pose," Bucky said, "Can we go for a run?"

"It's only just after two."

"Oh," Bucky said, noticing an alarm clock on Steve's bedside table. He sighed. "I don't want to go back to sleep."

"D'ya wanna bunk in here?" Steve asked.

"You sure?"

"Course."

Bucky stood up and Steve followed suit. "D'you remember that night, I think we were in Saint-Somewhere in northern France I think, it was January and it must have been about 10 degrees at the most. And there was this snow storm,"

"And I was sandwiched between you and Jim, who snored like a diesel engine passing over a rickety bridge?" Steve smiled, climbing into bed.

"I was going to say how I was sandwiched between you and Dum Dum, who spend the whole night, ah,"

"Letting rip?"

Bucky smiled. "That's one why of putting it, yeah. Those rations were bad." He wasn't sure where the memory had come from, but now he could see that night as clearly as anything - just as clearly as he could recall being 'managed', but this memory was a thousand times sweeter. The bitter, icy wind, the fresh snow in the morning, the dwindling, bland rations, the Howling Commandos sleeping huddled together for warmth in an abandoned barn.

Steve laughed and lay down, pulling the blankets over himself. "How we ever got any sleep…"

Bucky sat down on the bed on the opposite side to Steve. "Are you sure about this?"

"Sure I'm sure," Steve said, "D'you wanna leave the light on?"

Bucky shrugged and pushed back the blankets on the other side of the bed, before laying down. "You got easy access to the switch incase I - wake-up again?"

"Sure do."

"Ok then," Bucky said, "Goodnight then."

"Night, Buck." Steve said, leaning over to switch off the light, "See you at 0530."