Bucky sat awake in his arm chair, staring out the window. Rigidly with his hands on his knees, Bucky was slightly turned so he could see the door to the bedroom.
Steve had woken to find he was alone in bed and lifted his head to scan the room for Bucky.
“Morning.” He mumbled, yawning as he sat up, propping his back against the headboard.
Bucky didn’t reply.
“Buck?” Steve said softly, watching the man remain eerily still, yet silent.
Steve considered his next action before moving. Bucky wasn’t responsive. This had occurred before.
Steve stood and walked around the side of the bed, as to not approach Bucky from behind. The man didn’t seem to notice Steve. Eyes glazed over and in another state of dissociation, Steve knew he had to be careful.
One time he didn’t know Bucky was in a similar state and touched his arm from behind him on the couch. Bucky had snapped, grabbing Steve and throwing him over the couch and coffee table, dislocating his arm. Bucky had been horrified. His therapist had talked the pair through how best to approach these situations.
“Can you hear me Buck?” Steve asked, concerned that Bucky may be like this for hours, or even days.
Bucky didn’t reply. Inside his head there was a violent mix of flashbacks.
“Stupid fuck, stay fucking still!” Rollins had yelled, striking him hard in the face with a baton, sending him flying backwards.
“You used to be Captain America’s little slut, didn’t you Asset?” Rumlow laughed, spraying Bucky’s naked body with a high pressure hose when he was on ‘shower duty’.
“I do not understand why you struggle so much to learn your place.” Alexander Pierce chastised, buckling up his belt and leaving the Asset crying on the floor. “I truely do yearn for a day when you do not disappoint me.”
Bucky was hearing the insults and memories all at once. “Pierce’s stupid little Asset.” “Alpha Block’s brainless fuck” “Rogers is dead. Nobody cares enough to ever look for you.”
Bucky could see Steve standing by the bed, watching him with concern, but was paralysed with fear. Fear Steve was a memory, an illusion. Fear that he never escaped Hydra and was simply back at the mercy of the doctors with their experimental drugs and forced hallucinations.
There was a black sheen over his vision, causing him to believe even further that this was not real. If he blinked, Bucky was sure Steve would disappear and a Hydra doctor would appear in front of him.
“If you can hear me Bucky, I’ll always be here.” Steve said soothingly, sitting on the bed, watching Bucky closely. “I’ll never let them take you back.”
Bucky was exhausted. He had been awake since before the sun rose and was desperate for a long night’s sleep, void of any nightmares or terrors.
Steve considered the fact that the longest this had occurred before was nearly 48 hours. Hydra’s harsh abuse over the decades, combined with Bucky’s sniper training from World War II, meant he was incredibly resilient when it came to remaining still for long periods of time.
“I’m real Buck.” Steve added. “I’m as real as the blood coursing through you right now. “
Bucky sighed, allowing himself to consider it may be true.
“Finish the mission, soldier.” Pierce said with his usual tone of authority.
“Don’t let the enemy win.”