Never Have I Ever…" pt. 2.7
Chapter 9
Summary : The silence in the cabin was broken sometime after they'd both fallen asleep when screams shattered the stillness.
Steve had been sleeping on his stomach with his head half buried under his pillow. He rolled from his belly into a sitting position, stopping just short of falling off the edge before his brain was able to wake up and sort out what was happening. The screams seemed to come at him from every direction. They came through the open window to the left of the bed as they echoed from the hillside. Steve blinked, looking at the darkness outside the window. Another scream and he twisted around as, this time it was louder coming from inside the cabin and a moment later the echo of it came around through his bedroom window again. It took him a moment to remember where he was and who was with him.
"Bucky!" Steve called out and rocketed out of bed. The screams kept coming and, as he ran toward the living room, he reached into the bathroom to turn the light on so he could see what was happening. He could see Bucky sitting up, his head was thrown back and he kept screaming. Steve dropped down on the futon and wrapped his arms around Barnes, but Bucky screamed again and fought him off.
Steve had to block a few punches, and then grappled with him as Barnes became combative. The screams stopped as Bucky began to physically defend himself against his tormentors. Steve grabbed hold of his arms to keep him from hurting himself or…him.
"Bucky! Bucky! It's me! It's Steve! You're okay! It was a dream! It was a dream!" he repeated, trying to break through the nightmare. Bucky's eyes shot open and he froze, staring blindly into the dimly lit room, trembling and gasping for air. "You're okay," Steve told him in a softer voice now that he didn't have to shout over his screams.
Bucky gasped for air as if he was having trouble getting his lungs to work. Steve knew that feeling all too well, having grown up with asthma and if he hadn't known better he would have thought that's what he was witnessing. Bucky's gaze shifted slowly toward Steve, and he stared at him wide-eyed.
"You're okay," Steve assured him and wrapped his arms around him again. Bucky collapsed against him, realizing he was safe and it had been just another bad dream. Steve could feel the intense heat radiating off Bucky's back and chest, his tee shirt was damp with sweat.
"Oh god," he gasped. "It was so real," he whispered, between gasping breaths. He leaned heavily against Steve, wrung out and trying to ground himself in the here and now and using Steve's physical presence to guide him out of his terror state.
Steve held onto him, trying to get his own heart rate to back down. He'd gotten used to Bucky's screams in the night back at the compound; when there was forty feet between their rooms and the white noise of air conditioning systems to soften the blow along with a city full of noises not far off in the distance. Out here, in the middle of nowhere, in the peace and quiet of isolation, Steve got a true sense of the absolute terror in Bucky's screams.
As Bucky relaxed in his arms and his trembling finally ceased, he pulled away slowly and Steve let go of him. He watched Barnes in the dim light to be sure he was truly coming out of it. Bucky looked at him as if to apologize and Steve put his hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
"Let me turn on a light here," Steve mentioned and moved to the kitchen. He turned on the light and looked over to be sure Bucky was still doing okay. "You want some water?" he asked.
Bucky nodded, not really focused on what Steve had asked. He swept his hair back from his face and took a deep breath to open his lungs fully. He slid to the edge of the futon and put his feet on the floor. He pressed his hand against his forehead and yawned as his lungs still tried to pull in the oxygen they needed.
Steve came over and offered him a bottle of water he'd gotten from the fridge. "Here ya' go," he said, letting Bucky know it was there.
Bucky looked up and stared at the bottle of water as if it was going to attack him. When he stretched his hand out toward it, Steve moved it closer and was surprised when Bucky pushed it away instead and turned away from him.
"Buck? What's wrong?" Steve asked. "You should drink something. You'll feel better." He tried to hand him the bottle again and Bucky moved to the far corner of the futon closer to the window. He settled there with his knees drawn up in front of him as if for protection and stared at the bottle of water Steve had in his hand. Steve took note of Bucky's focus so he sat down on the corner diagonally across from Barnes' position. He then leaned over to put the water bottle on the floor out of sight. He watched Barnes closely. "Bucky, talk to me," he said. It appeared to him that Bucky was trying to catch images of what his nightmare had been about and then he squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced. "Can you tell me what you were dreaming about?"
"They tried to drown me."
Steve's expression fell. "What?" he asked, more out of surprise than needing him to repeat it.
"Hydra… they tortured me… they held me underwater… until I lost consciousness… then they'd revive me and do it again. Other times they… they water boarded me… for hours," he told Steve, "other times they hung me upside down by my ankles, my hands tied behind my back… they'd lower me into a tank... over and over again." Bucky's face twisted up into a tight grimace as if he was about to cry. Steve didn't know what to say, he just stared at his friend, waiting for those tears to finally fall, but the moment passed again and Bucky's face relaxed as he turned his focus inward. "Lungs filling with water as I tried to take a breath… hurt so bad. God it hurt. I forgot all about that…" he said then looked at Steve. "How do you forget about something like that?" he asked.
"You've been through so much," Steve told him, trying to find an answer for him. "They probably wiped those memories from your mind… or maybe it was just your own brain trying to protect you until you could face it again."
"Why would they come back now?" Bucky asked, searching for the answer. He realized he was sweating due to the nightmare and unbuttoned the jeans he'd fallen asleep in. He quickly shed the denim, feeling the cool mountain air brushing across his heated skin. It felt so good. Steve watched him as he too searched for an answer to give him. He picked up the discarded denim and draped them over the side of the futon. He turned back to Bucky as he realized -
"I think we triggered those memories… this afternoon," Steve told him. "We were wrestling under water, remember? I held you… under water. Oh my God, Buck, I'm so sorry -."
Bucky looked at him, not understanding. "But we were having fun. We were wrestling… we were holding each other under water…"
Steve nodded. "I know, but I think it was enough of a similarity to jar the memories out in the open. I'm sorry," Steve told him.
Bucky shook his head. "It's not your fault," he told Steve. "We were having fun. I was having fun," he said, offering Steve a shaky smile.
"It was a fun day," Steve agreed with a grin.
"It was," Bucky said with a smile. "It was like old times," he said, feeling more in control now that he understood what had triggered such an intense memory.
"Old times?" Steve breathed out as the air left his lungs. "You remember? Us… in the old days?"
Bucky looked at him, wondering that himself. He was certain though, that the flashes of images on the raft that afternoon were actually memories of him and Steve when they were boys. He nodded. "Yeah… I remember swimming… with you; wrestling and playing games in the water… at the beach."
Steve stared at him and then a smile bloomed on his face. "Those were great times," he told Bucky.
"Yeah," Bucky agreed, he shivered now as the night air chilled him as the light sheen of sweat evaporated from his skin. He decided they should go back to sleep. "I'm okay now," he assured Steve.
"You sure?" Steve asked, still concerned.
"Yeah," Bucky nodded. "I'll take that drink now."
Steve nodded. He reached down to get the bottle and handed it to Bucky. He watched as Bucky twisted the cap off and slugged back the entire bottle. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and replaced the cap. Steve took it from him and brought it to the kitchen and placed it in the recycling bin. He turned and watched as Bucky rubbed his hands on his bare legs and went to the bedroom to get him a pair of pajama pants to wear. He came back out and handed the bottoms to Barnes.
"You sure you're okay now?" he asked.
"Yeah," Bucky replied even as he donned the pajama bottoms and was already lying back down. "I'm good. Thanks."
"I can sit with you…" Steve offered, but Bucky was shaking his head and pulling the afghan over himself.
"I'm good, Steve. Get some sleep."
"Okay," he replied and turned off the kitchen light. He headed back toward his bedroom and stopped to turn off the bathroom light on his way there. "Good night."
"G'night."
The next morning Steve came out of his bedroom freshly showered, shaved and fully dressed. He looked over at Bucky still sound asleep, laid out on his belly with his left arm hanging off the futon and his left leg sticking straight out from the edge of the mattress, his toes pointing toward the floor.
Steve paused to really look at his friend while he had the chance to undetected. He moved closer, careful to be quiet so he wouldn't wake Barnes. He crouched down beside the futon, staring at the face of his best friend. His long hair was spread out on the pillow and some wayward strands were draped over his cheek and across his closed eyelids. He reached out slowly and carefully snagged the strands with a fingertip and pulled them back away from his face.
Steve stared at that face; his expression was peaceful and without a care. He wished for the day when he could see Bucky this relaxed and at peace when he was awake. He let his eyes roam over Bucky's shoulders and down his back. He let his gaze pause a moment on his friend's sculpted, muscular ass and down his leg now jutting off the mattress. His pajama pant leg was drawn up and bunched up around his knee and Steve smiled again.
He sighed softly; thankful to have his friend back in his life and brought his attention back to Bucky's sleeping face. He froze when he saw Bucky's eyes open and looking at him. He hadn't moved at all so Steve had no idea how long he'd been watching him. Steve's cheeks flushed pink when he realized he'd been taking his time perusing Bucky's body and wondered how long Barnes had been watching him.
"Mornin'," Bucky slurred, still half-asleep. "What're you doing?" he asked, curious but unconcerned.
Steve remained crouched beside him, realizing Bucky didn't seem to care that he was so close. "Was just checking on you… you want some breakfast?"
"Mmmm," Bucky hummed and closed his eyes again as if he wasn't quite ready to be awake. "Sure," he said, rolling over slowly.
Steve watched him as he pulled his metal arm up and pushed himself over onto his back. The leg that had been sticking off the edge of the bed was now crossed over the other leg as Bucky flopped over. The afghan was pulled along with his movement leaving Barnes mostly uncovered, but he was fully covered by his tee shirt and pajama bottoms.
Steve stood up and looked down at his sleepy friend, smiled and then went to the kitchen to start making breakfast. A few minutes later the smell of French toast filled the cabin and Bucky breathed in deeply through his nose and pried open his eyes. "Mmmm… that smells good," he said as he sat up, still trying to shake the sleepiness from his brain.
"Your favorite," Steve told him with a smile and grabbed a couple of mugs and placed them on the counter.
Bucky pulled himself to his feet and yawned. His back muscles tightened and he raised his arms to stretch them out with a pleasant groan. "Mmmm," he hummed and then dropped his hands, yawning again.
Steve watched him from the kitchen still smiling softly. Bucky scratched the back of his neck with his right hand and his belly with his left. Steve breathed out a soft laugh as Bucky shuffled his way toward the bedroom. Steve figured he was heading to the bathroom.
When he returned about five minutes later, Steve was stacking the toast onto two plates and splitting the bacon evenly between the two. Bucky shuffled into the kitchen area and grabbed the coffee pot. He poured to fill both mugs and yawned again. Steve picked up the two plates and carried them to the small table near the window. This was the first time Steve had ever had company at the cabin so he was glad he had opted for two chairs for the tiny table when he purchased it for himself years ago.
Bucky carried the two steaming mugs to the table and passed Steve going back to collect utensils and syrup. Bucky took his seat and waited for Steve to return.
When Steve took the seat opposite him, he placed the syrup on the table and then handed Bucky a fork and knife. "Hope you like it," he said, but he didn't have to. Bucky looked over at him and smiled.
"So what do you want to do today?" Steve asked as they cut into their meal.
"I don't know," Bucky replied with a slight shrug. "What are our options?" he asked, shoving a forkful of toast into his mouth.
"Well, I was thinking," Steve started slowly and then just pushed forward with his idea. "… a motorcycle tour of the mountains. We can stop for lunch later and there's a great ice cream place I think you'd really like."
"I like ice cream," Bucky told him around a mouthful of food. Steve smiled. He knew Bucky liked ice cream. Ice cream was one of the few things in life that Bucky Barnes could never refuse.
"So that's a 'yes'?" Steve asked.
"Yeah," Bucky replied, nodding. He took a long sip of coffee and then his brows knitted together as a thought occurred to him. "Where do we get the motorcycles?" he asked.
Steve just smiled at him. "Let me worry about that."
"Wait," Bucky said suddenly, as a thought came to him. "Are we going to be around other people?" he asked.
"It's summer in the Catskills, Buck," Steve told him. "Yeah, we'll be seeing other people."
Steve watched him carefully; worried that Bucky's anxiety was rearing its ugly head again. He saw Bucky glance down at his left arm and chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully. "Maybe… we shouldn't go out today," he tried to excuse himself from the plans.
"Buck," Steve said softly and waited for Bucky to look at him. Bucky kept his gaze averted and then realized Steve was waiting for his attention so he looked over at him and then dropped his eyes to his plate. "Buck, look at me," Steve said and waited patiently. Bucky kept his head down but raised his eyes to look at Steve. "It's summer in the mountains and we'll be riding motorcycles. It's expected that we'd wear appropriate protective clothing on motorcycles," Steve outlined for him. "A jacket and gloves would not be out of line or look odd to anyone else."
Bucky kept his eyes on Steve's and then raised his head as he realized Steve had already thought this through and knew he would be self-conscious about his metal arm or hand bringing attention to them. He smiled at Steve as his confidence in his friend returned. Bucky nodded, feeling much better about their plans.
When breakfast was done, Steve offered to do the dishes so Bucky could shower and get ready for their day. Steve took his time straightening up the kitchen and living area as he waited for Bucky. He folded the afghan and made up the futon and threw Bucky's jeans into his laundry bag that sat on the floor beside the futon.
When Bucky finally came out he looked like he felt much better than when he went in. He was freshly showered, his hair was combed and tucked behind his ears and he was clean shaven with fresh clean clothes on; a white tee shirt and dark blue jeans.
"Feel better?" Steve asked with a grin.
"Much," Bucky replied and sat down to put on his socks and boots.
Steve grabbed his jacket and baseball cap from the hook behind the door. Bucky took his jacket from where it'd been draped over the back of a chair and donned his dark blue baseball cap.
"Ready?" Steve asked and received a brilliant smile from Bucky. "Let's go."
