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[endsinafight]

Bucky'd been fidgety throughout the debriefing with Fury, even if he hadn't moved a muscle as he listened to the mission -- another HYDRA target, smaller, on a remote island in the Pacific. Not the usual setup, which made him uneasy from the get-go. But there was something else, something nagging at him, something in Fury's tone that told him there was more to this mission than he was willing to divulge. It wasn't a surprise. Fury might not be HYDRA, but in some ways his methods were so similar that it felt like being back there anyway. He definitely believed in the need to know principle, and obviously he didn't feel like they needed to know whatever it was he was holding back. His gaze darted to Steve, wondering if he'd picked up on it, too.

But if Steve had, his expression didn't betray his thoughts.

He pressed his lips together as they were dismissed, Fury addressing him as the others agents involved in the mission filtered out of the room. "Barnes. Hang back a minute."

And there it was, he thought, meeting Steve's eyes only briefly before lingering as Fury requested. One the door was shut again, the other man turned to study him.

"You have a different mission while they're disabling all of HYDRA's operating systems and containing the operatives."

Bucky studied him just as intently, his voice flat when he responded. "Who'm I eliminating?"

If Fury was surprised by his response, he gave nothing away. "Your target is Katya Belyakov."

"Who is she?" His voice was wary.

"You sure you wanna know the details, Barnes?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

"If you're asking me to murder someone, yes," Bucky said, jaw tightening.

Fury regarded him for a long moment. "Essentially, she's the of the most dangerous people in the galaxy. Mind control abilities that she's utilized to force others to commit her dirty work. She's likely being accompanied by a former SHIELD operative who turned out to be moonlighting for HYDRA, Grant Ward. I'd prefer him to remain alive. He's got a lot to answer for."

Every muscle in Bucky's body tensed at the information about Belyakov, but also the name Grant Ward, his stomach turning in recognition.

"Ah. See you're familiar with him then."

"Unfortunately," Bucky responded stiffly, struggling to maintain his composure. "I'm assuming this isn't an optional mission." There was a hint of bitterness in his voice.

"You knew when you signed the dotted line that there's no such thing here, Barnes. Is there a problem? Or do I need to go over the fine print of your contract to refresh your memory?"

Fuck you, he thought. "No, Sir. Am I free to go?"

"You're dismissed."

--

An hour later, he was suited up in his tac gear, breathing steady and even despite the wild pounding of his heart as he boarded the quinjet with a team he didn't know or trust, and the only person on the earth he truly did.

Comments

[endsinafight]

The need for sleep was definitely becoming obvious, the lack of it catching up with him. And Steve was right. He knew the blond could definitely use more rest, too. "Yeah, I think so." He wondered if it was safe for both of them to sleep, still not entirely sure what, if anything, Fury had planned for them. He doubted, though, that even Fury would be dumb enough to make the mistake of attacking them at Steve's apartment.

He moved his plate over to the nightstand, tugging the covers up and over them. "This okay?"

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

Steve shifted a little, getting comfortable. He made sure to leave space under his good arm, if Bucky wanted to curl up on his chest.

“Want me to stand watch or anything? I think you need the sleep more than me.”

[endsinafight]

"No. We'll wake up if anything happens." They were both light sleepers, and had been since the war. "Besides, you need your rest, too." He scooted closer, winding his arm around Steve's torso, head moving to rest over his heart.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

"Mm," Steve said. He liked the heavy weight of Bucky on his chest. It was deeply comforting--it felt a little like without it, he had some strange risk of floating away.

"I love you," he said, warm and comfortable and well on his way to sleep.

[endsinafight]

For the first time in over twenty-four hours, Bucky felt safe enough to let his guard drop and let himself rest, ghost of a smile on his lips at Steve's soft words. He let his eyes drift shut, murmuring, "Love you," in return before he drifted into unconsciousness.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

Steve slept easily, for several hours. The soft rhythm of Bucky's breathing was better than any lullaby and it kept him in a peaceful sleep. But unlike Bucky, he had slept okay the previous night and so he woke up first. He didn't wake with a start, just drifting up out of unconsciousness. He didn't tense or move and just blinked his eyes sleepily, dispelling grogginess from them, and smiled down at Bucky.

He had no intention of waking him. He would happily stay right here, as a pillow for the other man, and watch his peaceful face in sleep.

[endsinafight]

Bucky slept for hours in silent peace, but as most times he slept, that eventually came to abrupt end.

He was back at the facility where Katya and Ward had been, but he was too late and Steve's body was limp on the ground, blood all around him. He stood in numb horror, unable to move, unable to look away from the body even as Katya ordered him to lower his weapon. He did so without argument.

"Welcome home, Soldier," Ward said to him with a smirk, pulling out his stun baton, a particular favorite of his, he remembered distantly.

Sweat broke out across his forehead, and Bucky whimpered in his sleep, eyebrows pulling together as he started to tremble in Steve's arms.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

Steve goes still, his smile dropping off his face. The shift in Bucky's body language was immediate and profound--Steve could tell right away he was having a nightmare. He hast the instinct to shake him, wake him up with touch--but he knows better. They were just talking about it.

Instead, he murmurs, "Sweetheart. Bucky. You're safe. You're here with me, Steve, and you're safe. I love you, Bucky. Wake up."

[endsinafight]

Katya orders him to remain still and silent as Ward advances on him with the baton, and he can't move despite his desperate need to collect Steve in his arms, maybe even to lie down and die right beside him, but Ward won't give him that luxury. There is no death for him, only pain. And it comes in a powerful wave as Ward shoves the baton against his groin, turning it on full power, a scream ripping out of him despite Katya's mind control.

Another wave of pain explodes in his head as the baton batters him in the temple and he hits the ground like a sack of potatoes. Somehow, somehow, he hears Steve's voice whispering to him and he whimpers because Steve is dead and it's his fault for not taking the order from Fury to begin with. For letting Steve take this hit for him instead.

"Steve," he whimpered, tears rolling down his face even as sleep held him captive.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

Steve's heart rate was ramping up as he could help get but getting worked up at the horrible sight of Bucky crying in his arms, whimpering out his name.

He spoke louder, tried to put some command in his voice. "Bucky, wake up. You're safe. You're safe in my arms, Buck. I love you. Wake up."

[endsinafight]

"He's dead because of you," Fury growls, suddenly appearing in front of him. "This is why we have to decommission you, Barnes. Everything you touch turns to shit."

He shudders as Ward lands a hard kick to his ribs and he does nothing to fight back. Weapons don't fight back.

"Yeah, you just lay there, Soldier. You'll take whatever I give you, won't you?" Ward whispers, leaning down so his body is over Bucky's. "No matter how much it hurts. Just a little bitch."

"Bucky, wake up." Steve was on his feet now, standing beside Fury, blood pouring out of his head, his eyes blank, but there was no mistaking the order there. "I love you. Wake up."

He jerked suddenly, a frightened cry escaping his lips as he scrambled upright.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

In Bucky's urgent attempt to get up, he accidentally nailed Steve's injured arm. Steve was keyed up enough, adrenaline coursing through him, that he didn't make any audible reaction, just gritting his teeth hard.

"Bucky," he said, sitting up himself. He spread his hand in the universal symbol of being unarmed. "Sweetheart, you're okay. You're safe."

[endsinafight]

It took him a long moment to realize that he was in bed, not on the floor. That Katya was gone, that Ward was gone. Fury was nowhere in sight. There was no blood. His ribs didn't hurt, but there was phantom pain in his groin which made no sense. And Steve. Steve was there, not dead, awake and trying to convince him that he was safe.

He wasn't safe. Neither was Steve. Not as long as Bucky was anywhere around him. Not as long as HYDRA still existed.

He let out a shuddering breath, tasting bile at the back of his throat. He couldn't rid the image of Steve's pale, dead face out of his mind and he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, hitting the ground in a dead run for the bathroom and barely making it to the toilet before he was throwing up.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

Steve scrambled up after him, just as fast. He followed him into the bathroom and he carefully narrated what he was doing.

"I'm behind you, Buck, moving to the side of the toilet," he said. "I'm reaching for your head to get your hair out of your face, but I'm going very slowly. If you move away in any way, imma stop, okay?"

[endsinafight]

He didn't move, other than to clutch more tightly onto the toilet bowl as he heaved up his breakfast from that morning. He felt Steve's hands gently collecting his hair and pulling it out of his face. After that there was nothing left but dry heaves that wracked his body. Now his ribs hurt. His body shook even as he lifted his hand to flush the toilet, knees stinging from how hard he'd hit the floor.

He slumped over against the wall, cold sweat drenching him from head to toe. It had been a long time since he'd had a nightmare that bad, but it had felt so damned real. It had been so close to being real. Could have so easily gone just like that.

"I'm sorry," he managed to croak out.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

Steve was so calm he felt like he was in the middle of combat, bullets flying around his head. When Bucky slumped against the wall, Steve stood up and went to the sink, filled a glass with water, kept another one empty, grabbed a thing of mouthwash. He also dampened a washcloth.

Thus outfited, he cautiously went toward Bucky, sitting next to him and gently trying to gather him into his lap.

"You're alright, sweetheart," he said. "There's nothing to apologize for. Here's some mouthwash, if you want to take a swig. You can spit it in the toilet. And then some water to get the taste out."

He set the liquids down in front of them and very softly, very sweetly started wiping sweat off of Bucky's face.

[endsinafight]

Bucky's entire body felt weak and shaky like he'd actually been hit with an electric shock to his system even though he hadn't; it had only been a horrible dream. This time. He let Steve pull him into his lap and he leaned back against him momentarily, still breathing hard even as he tried to focus his vision on the cups beside them.

He grimaced as he picked up the mouthwash, knowing that it was nasty but not as nasty as vomit, so he rinsed his mouth out and spit it out as Steve had suggested, then took a small drink, afraid to drink too much and make himself sick again. When he set the cup down once more, he closed his eyes as he laid back against Steve's broad chest, letting him wipe his face with a cloth that felt cool to his heated skin.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

Steve found himself humming softly, an old lullaby that his ma used to sing him. He felt incredibly, impossibly tender, just aching from how much Bucky was shaking. He was also aching from the throbbing pain in his right hand, but he would rather die than mention that right now.

He wiped Bucky's face with a gentle hand, and gathered his hair behind his neck. He didn't have anything to tie it back properly, so he just kept pushing it back, out of the way.

[endsinafight]

Ever-so-slowly he felt himself growing calmer from the way Steve was humming and stroking his hair. There was something familiar about the song, though it took him a moment to place it. "Your ma used to sing that, didn't she?" He wasn't sure he actually remembered or if he was making an educated guess. His voice was strained from throwing up so violently.

It felt almost overwhelming to be treated like this, so tenderly, like a lost, scared child. He rested his head in the crook of Steve's neck, clutching onto the shirt he still wore, though it was unbuttoned. No matter how much calmer he was starting to feel, he couldn't seem to get the tremors under control and he bit down hard on his lower lip to keep his teeth from chattering, ignoring the coppery taste of blood in his mouth.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

"Yep," Steve said, softly. "Her voice was just as bad as mine, though I loved it. Neither of us can really carry a tune in a bucket, the Rogers just weren't built like that. Remember when Bing Crosby recorded a version of it? That fella could sing."

He sang through the first verse, rubbing Bucky's back as he clung. The smell of blood twitched his nose, after a moment of trembling quiet.

"Are you bleeding, baby?" he said, softly. He didn't think it was his own blood--it was new and the wrenching pain in his hand had died down a little.

[endsinafight]

He didn't remember Bing Crosby, period, but he made a mental note to look him up later. He listened quietly as Steve sang to him and he let his eyes drift shut, trying to focus solely on his voice, on the gentle touch to his back. Tried to let it all ground him in the midst of the aftermath of his nightmare. Steve wasn't dead. He hadn't been too late after all.

"Bit my lip," he admitted with a slight shrug. It would be healed in a couple of hours, tops. It was how must have his wounds were, but not all. The serum Zola had initially injected him with wasn't the same version as what Steve had in his veins, and the nasty scarring around his left shoulder was proof of that. There were a lot of other things, too, that hadn't healed all the way, or hadn't healed correctly, that Shuri had found when he'd been under her care in Wakanda, and none of it surprised him even though it had shocked and horrified her.

There were reasons he did his best to always be dressed and not let other people catch glimpses of his body, Steve included, even if he'd seen more of Bucky's skin than most.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

Steve relaxed when Bucky said that he had just bit his lip. That was easy, he’d recover from that in no time. He could feel Bucky relax in increments, even though he still seemed deeply tense and unhappy.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Steve murmured, not adjusting his touch on Bucky’s back in the slightest.

[endsinafight]

He was quiet for a moment, considering. He was so used to keeping as much of the bad stuff to himself as he could, even though his therapist kept telling him it was the worst thing he could do. She'd encouraged him time and again to share with Steve whatever he felt like he could, because friendship was built on sharing things, good and bad, and it showed that you trusted the other person. And he did trust Steve.

"In my dream, I wasn't in time to stop you," Bucky admitted. "I was too late, and you were gone." He exhaled.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

Steve’s arm went tight around Bucky, holding him as close as he could. That sounds horrifying—even just the thought of Bucky discovering him like that made him sick.

“That sounds awful,” Steve said. “I’m so sorry. But you did make it. You saved my life.”

His voice was rough and so sincere, trying to infuse his love into it. He hoped the living warmth of his body against Bucky helped.

[endsinafight]

As much as Bucky normally hated the feeling of being restrained, the feel of Steve's arms tightening around him like that was what helped some of the remaining horror from the dream begin to fade. His own arms moved to hug him back instead of just clinging to his shirt. He let out a shuddering breath against Steve's neck, resting his forehead there.

"Steve?" His voice was barely audible.