He gazed at his soldier husband, who lay peacefully asleep beside him. He could feel the gentle warmth of his hand resting on his bare chest, savoring the subtle touch, the familiar scent, and the serene expression on his face. Yet, despite the comfort of these tender moments, a deep resolve tugged at his heart. He knew he had to stay away, not out of distance but out of duty—to shield his beloved from the relentless torment of his nightmares and the danger of his clenched, metallic arm.
Bucky's heart ached at the thought of leaving him, but his resolve was unshakable. He had grown accustomed to the uncomfortable, uninviting bed of the couch, finding solace in the knowledge that his sacrifice was a small price to pay for Steve's safety. He stared at Steve one last time, then slowly pushed himself off the bed while being slow and steady as he continued staring at his husband. He gently removed the hand from his chest, already missing the touch.
Bucky gently grasped the blanket from the bed and, with a soft sigh, slipped out of the room. His footsteps were quiet as he descended the stairs, the rhythmic creak of the steps a subtle reminder of his sleepless vigil. Arriving at the couch, he draped the blanket over himself and settled onto the unforgiving cushions.
He shifted and adjusted, his attempts to find comfort a tender dance of patience and longing. As he finally nestled into the blanket’s embrace, a sense of weariness began to overcome him. Though he wished for nothing more than to have Steve close, to share in the warmth of his presence, he found the quiet solitude of the couch. Slowly, his breathing evened out, and as the night wore on, he succumbed to the embrace of sleep, the image of Steve’s peaceful face lingering in his dreams.
Steve awoke with a start, his hand instinctively reaching for the familiar warmth beside him, only to find the space cold and empty. His heart sank, a shadow of sadness flickering across his face.
He knew that Bucky's nightmares, constantly haunted by the ghosts of Hydra and his past crimes, often drove him to violence in his sleep. Even when Bucky awoke in terror and tried to keep his distance, Steve refused to let go. Determined, he slipped out of bed, his footsteps soft and deliberate as he descended the stairs.
In the dim glow of the living room, the only light came from a small lamp casting gentle shadows across the room. There, on the couch, lay Bucky, cocooned in a blanket. Steve's heart ached as he approached, his eyes fixed on the tortured figure. Bucky's face was contorted in pain, his breaths coming in shallow, ragged gasps. His hair fell in disheveled strands across his face, and his body trembled as he fought against the torment of his dreams.
Steve stopped quickly, as he heard a pained groan escape Bucky's lips. The sight of his husband's distress was nearly unbearable, but Steve remained still, waiting for the moment when he could offer solace.
Bucky's nightmare wove its cruel grip around him, manifesting in frantic, jerky movements. His hands, both metal and flesh, clutched the blanket with a desperate intensity, while his bare chest rose and fell in rapid, uneven breaths. His face was a mask of anguish, teeth clenched as if to ward off an unseen foe, but was not succeeding to win the battle, as he moved his head from side to side with each flinch.
Steve moved closer, each step deliberate and tender. He could only watch in silent agony as Bucky’s suffering unfolded before him, the distress evident in every shuddering breath and pained grimace. The sight of his husband’s torment weighed heavily on him, but he knew his presence was the balm Bucky needed. He heard Bucky mutter as he continued kicking his legs and grunting. “No…no…no…get…away”
Bucky's torment deepened, each grunt and groan escaping him as his face remained obscured by sweat-drenched strands of hair. The dark, rich color of his brunette locks lay in tangled disarray over the pillow, creating a striking contrast with the pale fabric. The lamp’s soft glow cast a shimmering light on his metallic arm, which gleamed like a constellation of diamonds.
Steve settled onto the couch with a careful, almost reverent motion, his gaze fixed on the pained visage of his husband as he felt the couch cushions tumbling and rocking from his struggles. The agony etched into Bucky’s features was a stark and heart-wrenching sight, his fear palpable in every groan and whimper. Steve’s heart ached with each sound, but he remained steadfast, his presence a silent promise of unwavering support amid the chaos of Bucky’s dreams. “Stop…get…get…get away…please…stop…stop! Stop!” He shouted, pressing the side of his face on the pillow. “Don't! No, no!” He yelled out as he continued rocking. “No!!!”
Steve’s hand moved gently from Bucky’s metal arm to his fevered, sweat-slicked face. His touch, soft and soothing, traced the contours of Bucky’s cheek. The tender caress caused Bucky to flinch, his body instinctively pressing deeper into the couch, nearly knocking the cushions over him and face pressed into the pillow as if seeking refuge from the unbearable pain.
Steve frowned, but continues trying to free him. “Bucky, I'm here. You're dreaming. You're safe, baby, wake up. Wake up, Bucky”
Still trapped within the clutches of his nightmare, Bucky continued to writhe in anguish, his muffled, helpless murmurs revealing a profound sense of defeat. The pain etched into his face, each tortured expression fragmenting Steve's heart into aching pieces.
“No…more…stop…please…I…stop…beg…you…stop…please…please”, Bucky pleaded with a sob. “Just…stop…”
“Shh, my Bucky, shh. You're safe now. It is only a dream, babe. I'm here now. I'm right here with you. Open your eyes”, he softly said, stroking the sweaty strands from his beaded forehead and gently brushing his face. “I'm here, baby”
Bucky's anguished expression began to dissolve, as though the echoes of his nightmare were slowly retreating in the wake of Steve's soothing voice. As Bucky's eyes flew open, betraying a deep-seated fear and persistent pain, his breathing grew more erratic and strained. Without hesitation, Steve moved closer, his touch gentle yet reassuring. He spoke with a calming intensity, guiding Bucky back to the present moment and the safety of their shared reality, his presence a steadfast anchor in the turbulent sea of Bucky's distress. “Shh, Bucky. It's me, it's me, baby. I'm here, Bucky. It's me. Don't be afraid. It was just a dream. It's over now. It's finally over”, he said with the sternness of love and protection as his face.
Bucky's breath came in rapid, erratic gasps, his chest heaving as if it were fighting against an invisible force. His eyes, wide with a tumultuous blend of fear, locked onto Steve’s. Each breath seemed to draw him deeper into a struggle, his gaze reflecting a profound sense of disorientation and exhaustion. As his body wrestled with the storm within, he locked his eyes on Steve’s and his unwavering presence, finding safety in the steady strength and love emanating from his husband. “Shh, calm, easy, babe. Easy. It's alright, Bucky. It's okay now. You're awake. It's over. I'm here”
Despite his strength gone, Bucky managed a weak, exhausted yet hopeful smile. “Steve?”
“Shh, I'm here, Bucky. It's alright now. It's alright. I got you. You're safe, you're safe”
Bucky continued to pant until his breath gradually steadied. He felt a soothing calm wash over him as Steve’s hand gently stroked his bare, sweat-slicked chest. Each tender touch traced the rapid rhythm of his heartbeat. In silence, they locked eyes, their gaze unbroken until Steve finally spoke, shattering the quiet with his words. “You alright?” He asked while still caressing his face.
Bucky inhaled a trembled inhale then sighed as he nodded with a weak smile. “I am now”
Steve smiled. Bucky's smile turned to a worried frown. “Steve…did I hurt you…while I was–?”
“Shh, don't talk, Bucky”, Steve smiled.
Bucky continued. “I…didn't hurt you…while I was…?”
“Shh”, Steve shushed him again then rested his forehead against his. “Shh, it's alright, Bucky. You did nothing wrong, baby. I am fine. You are fine. We are fine. I promise, babe”
Bucky exhaled a heavy sigh, a mixture of anger and sorrow etched on his face. He shut his eyes tightly, as if to escape the weight of his emotions and the memory of his nightmare, only to reopen them with a serene smile then to a frown once more and turned his face away from the angelic eyes and face of his soldier. Steve frowned. “Bucky…”
Bucky coldly said. “You shouldn't be here with me”
“Bucky…”
“I'm fine now. Go back upstairs and leave me alone already, Steve”, Bucky snapped, eyes on the floor. Steve remained sitting on the couch and eyes locked on his husband. “Didn't you hear me? I said go away! Now!” He shouted, his eyes closed tight and pulp and metal fists clenching the blanket. Steve remained sitting on the couch then he began stroking Bucky's threads and his face. Bucky tried to move away from the gentle touches but he felt so relaxed and safe, he fell into Steve's spell.
“It's alright, Bucky”, Steve smiled sadly.
Bucky, his eyes heavy and clouded with weariness, slowly reopened them, his gaze a haunted reflection of fear and deep-seated remorse. His visage, etched with shadows of anguish, laid bare a profound well of guilt. With a voice trembling like a specter in the night, he whispered, “I’m scared”
Steve continued to caress his face and hair with a tender touch, his smile a bittersweet blend of sorrow and comfort. “Scared of what, Bucky?”
Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his face into the fabric with a desperate fervor, his teeth grinding slightly and his fists clenching the blanket so tightly that it threatened to tear, by the powerful grip of his metal. Each anguished grip seemed to channel the torment and horror of his memories—of Hydra and the sins of his past—into a silent, seething expression of his internal suffering.
Steve gazed at his husband, witnessing the depths of torment engulfing him. With a soft, reassuring smile, he rested his hand upon Bucky’s cold metal and fevered flesh, tenderly stroking them, while his other hand gently caressed Bucky’s distressed face. The warmth of his touch caused Bucky to flinch initially, but gradually, the soothing presence eased his tension, allowing him to release his grip on the blanket and spare it from the impending tear. “Hey, come on, Bucky. You don't have to be afraid. Not anymore and I promise you'll never have to be afraid or alone again. Never. Cause I am here now. And I'm not going anywhere. You can tell me”
Bucky slowly opened his eyes, facing his husband. The weight of his sorrow was palpable, his eyes sunken and brimming with tears that threatened to fall at any moment. Steve frowned at the sight. “Bucky…please tell me what's wrong. What are you scared of?”
“I'm scared of hurting you. I'm scared that I'm going to hurt you. Scared of you getting hurt…because of me”
“What are you talking about, hon?”
“My nightmares…when I wake up”, he turned to his metal arm. “my…arm…me…I'm afraid of myself…hurting you”, he finally confessed his fears, then turned his feared tone to anger. “There. I said it, happy now? Now go away from me already and let me sleep, will ya?”
Steve gazed at him with deep affection, then gently leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to his forehead. Bucky quickly melted and chuckled tearfully as he felt Steve's stroking away the watery crystals from his face.
“You’re so beautiful”, Steve smiled at his husband as he raked his brown locks.
Bucky chuckled then stared at him. “And you are annoying”, he smirked.
Steve smiled wider and kissed his forehead again. “Come to bed, Bucky”
He frowned again. “I can't. I'm scared that I'm gonna hurt you when I have my fucking nightmares…you hearing me and waking you up…you have to wake up every night hearing me...like that...seeing me like that”, his voice trembled from the memories of how he woke up from his dream terrors and attacked his husband. There were times when he almost killed him.
“Shh, baby. It's not your fault, Bucky. None of it, babe”, Steve comforted as he continued stroking his face and hair. “Now come upstairs and let's go to bed, baby. The couch doesn't look comfortable”
Bucky smiled at him. “Are…you…sure it's okay?”
“Come on, baby. Let's go to bed”, he replied, taking his metal hand in his, stroking the cold metal with his thumbs.
Bucky sighed, then grabbed Steve's shirt and gradually propped himself up and buried his face against Steve’s chest as he pulled him close, finding comfort in the rhythmic thrum of his heartbeat. His hair cascaded over his face like a shroud. Steve enfolded him tenderly, gently rocking them both in a rhythmic embrace. Bucky's exhaustion was catching up to him, and as he settled into the embrace of his husband, he felt a profound sense of comfort. The gentle murmur of soothing words from his husband wove around him like a cocoon as his arms. With each whispered promise of safety and love, Bucky's eyelids grew heavy, and he surrendered to the tranquility, letting the pull of sleep envelop him finally and completely.
“Bucky?” Steve gazed at him then smiled. He was already asleep, while he still held him close.
Bucky slowly awoke with a whimper, his gaze then drifted to the serene form of his husband nestled beside him. A tender smile spread across his face as he observed Steve, his breaths coming in soft, rhythmic puffs of snoring. Bucky let the peaceful symphony of Steve's sleep lull him back into slumber, feeling safe and content.