Quietly marveling at the new painting of his arm in dimmed light, he has been awake once the assumed nightmares started. Steve sounded oddly distressed for what Bucky could hear through the walls. Rolling off the bed, he leaves the warmth of his own bedroom to go through the hallway, soon resting at Steve's bedside, reaching out to run his fingers through blonde hair. "You with me, pal? There ain't any monsters or aliens anymore. You're safe." (because reasons. idk. we wanted to <3)
When he did sleep nightmares tended to follow relatively quickly.Some nights he saw the battle of New York, other nights he rememberedthe war, the train, the fall. It was why he very rarely slept;no one needed to know that their leader was plagued by nightmaresthat had him screaming every time he woke up. Steve didn't even wantBucky to know that his nights were sometimes pierced with himscreaming his name, that he saw the fall over and over again insideof his head. Tonight was no different if he were honest.
It had been going well, he'd finally felt like he could sleep withoutthe constant nightmares. Except like every other night he felt themcreep into his sleep, he felt the adrenaline of battle course throughhis veins, and knew what was about to happen. New York flashedthrough his mind, the Chitauri running through the streets, and HYDRAsoldiers not far behind them. His team was – somewhere. Steve knewthey were out there somewhere and he kept tapping his comms to findjust where they were so he coordinate an attack. The only voice heheard was –
"Bucky," he muttered in his sleep, the hand in his hair asoothing motion that had him momentarily stilling. "Always knewyou'd have my six. Just don't – " Go, was what he'dwanted to say. Instead he rolled over and wrapped his arms aroundwhat he'd assumed was his pillow. "Don't go. I still need you.Don't go."
