More fluff!

DarylDixon'sLover: Aww I'm so glad!

xenocanaan: Things are gonna be sweet for a little bit. But I'm evil, so don't expect it for long.

Earwen85: You're not spoiling it, don't worry. I've already seen Civil War and was destroyed. But I'm glad you liked it!

Tiphanie: Yes, lots and lots of fluff coming! Hold on to the good feelings while they last! And I want James to eat as many plums as he can before I get to Civil War because HOW DARE THEY NOT LET HIM EAT HIS PLUMS! Okay. I'm fine.

Enjoy!

I worked with James, going over history, everything he'd forgotten, and everything he didn't know had happened. We spent weeks sitting on the couch, pouring over the books, and he always had a notebook to write things down in. Things got a little tense when we got to WWII and the part about Captain America, but he managed to get through it alright. But I did notice his nightmares got worse whenever he talked about his past. Before HYDRA. Before the war.

One night things got really bad. I was having a hard time sleeping as it was, but James seemed to be worse off. He was tossing and turning, pained whimpers coming from the bed. I turned on my side, watching as he jerked around, breathing hard and sweating. I got out of bed, walking slowly to the kitchen to flip on the light. He didn't wake up, just rolled on his side, his back facing me. I approached the bed slowly, knife in hand.

"James?" I asked, staying a foot away from the mattress. He flinched, but didn't move. "James?" I asked again, taking a step forward.

I hesitated before sitting on the edge of the mattress. He still didn't show any sign of waking, so I reached out for him, the knife gripped in my other hand. I didn't want to stab him, but if he attacked me, that's what he said I should do. He said he'd heal. He'd be fine. He felt better knowing I could defend myself if he ever lost it. I reached out, slowly, hesitantly, my fingers just inches from his metal shoulder when he flipped, grabbing my wrist with his flesh hand. His grip was firm, but not painful as he stared at me, his eyes dazed, but full of fear.

"James?" I asked, my heart rate speeding up. "James? It's okay. You're with me, here in Romania. Your name is James Barnes-"

"32557038." He said automatically. "Sergeant...James Barnes...32557038."

I swallowed thickly. "Bucky?"

He seemed to come back to himself, the haziness of his eyes disappearing as they focused on me. His grip loosened on my wrist, one of the tears in his eyes sliding down his cheek.

"Olivia?" He breathed, his voice cracking.

"I'm here, James." I said, smoothing his sweaty hair from his face.

I cupped his cheek, wiping the tear away. His hand covered mine, keeping it on his face as he closed his eyes, breathing deeply. He released my hand, rolling over so his back was to me, curling in on himself. I sat there for a moment looking at him before I got up, tucking the sleeping bag around his shoulders before going to the kitchen to turn off the light. I stumbled back to the couch, grabbing the blanket while my eyes adjusted to the darkness again. I laid down on the mattress, curling against his sweaty back. I felt him tense, but he didn't push me away as I leaned my head in between his shoulder blades. He was warm, and I knew I was going to get overheated, but I didn't care. He was relaxing, his breathing evening out as we laid there. I wasn't going to push him to talk about it. He never made me talk about my nightmares. Not unless I wanted to. So I just offered him as much comfort as I could give him, and it seemed to be working for the moment.

James was having a horrible nightmare. He was stuck in the past, back when his unit had been taken captive by HYDRA during the war. When he'd been tortured the first time. Experimented on. He'd remembered the doctor. The little man with the round glasses. The pain. All he could think was his name, and the eight numbers keeping him sane.

One of the doctors had reached for him, and he grabbed their hand, stopping them. They were blurry, his focus coming in and out.

"James?" His name floated around him. "James, it's okay..." They were speaking, but the words were muffled. "...name is James Barnes-"

"32557038." He said, his brain filling in automatically. "Sergeant...James Barnes...32557038."

"Bucky?" A voice said and he snapped back to himself, and he had half expected it to be Steve.

But the blonde hair was lighter, the face rounder. More feminine. The body was the right size, but everything else was wrong. Unless Steve had been turned into a girl...but he knew her...

"Olivia?" He asked, his voice cracking. He was crying. He hadn't cried in...he didn't remember.

"I'm here, James." She said, her fingers running through his tangled, matted hair. It felt nice.

She cupped his cheek, wiping away his tear and he realized it had been a dream. He wasn't being tortured again. It had been over 70 years since that happened. So much had changed. So much had happened, and he'd missed it all. He lifted his hand, holding hers to his face while he tried to make sense of everything. They'd talked about what had happened. What he'd done...what HYDRA had done...she'd stayed when he told her to run. He didn't deserve that. She didn't deserve that. She deserved better. She didn't need to be staying here with a guy like him. She deserved freedom.

He released her hand, turning so his back was to her, not wanting to think anymore. He curled in on himself, wishing he could disappear. He felt her move, tucking the sleeping bag around him before shutting off the light, plunging the apartment into darkness again. He heard her stumble, searching in the darkness. The mattress dipped behind him and he felt her against his back, his body freezing as she curled against him, tucking her head against his back.

He knew how much it took for her to do that. The last time she'd been in bed with him, she'd nearly had a panic attack. She was sick and in her delirium had held him like he was her lifeline. But when she'd slipped from her delirium for a moment, she'd treated him like the plague. Tearing away from him like she'd been burned. The terror on her face when he got close to her. They'd come so far from that. He'd seen the way she'd grown, overcoming her fear. And now she was sharing a bed willingly with a man that had raped her. Stolen her most precious gift. Taken without asking. He knew he'd done it before. Some girl...he couldn't even remember her name. But she'd asked him to do it. They were gonna spend their life together. But he'd been in another girl's bed a week later.

But with Olivia there hadn't been a question. He hadn't asked. He'd taken her like an animal because her father had told him to. There had been no talk afterwards. No empty promise of a future. He'd left her, bleeding and sore without a care. He couldn't' even tuck himself back into his pants. He hadn't even taken his pants off. He'd done her so wrong, twice, and yet here she was. Curled against his back like a kitten. Willingly offering him comfort as he struggled with his demons, even though she had to be uncomfortable. He couldn't imagine her doing it if the situation had been different. She'd been treated wrong at the hands of bigger and stronger men, causing her fear and anguish. Breaking her. And yet, here she was, offering him comfort when he needed it. He took a deep breath in, calming his emotions as he relaxed, taking the comfort she offered, letting it lull him back to sleep.