Steve is pulled from sleep by a soft noise next to him.
Half awake, he waits, wondering if it was just his imagination. He can tell it’s still early, the sun not quite ready to start rising yet. There’s no grey light filtering through the tent just yet and he can still feel the chill of the night air surrounding the thin material. Just when he thinks he’s going to start falling asleep once more, another noise makes him roll over.
If he still had his pre-serum hearing, he knows he would have missed the small sounds completely; they are barely catching his attention as it is, and he finds himself thanking his superhuman hearing for waking him. In the dull lighting of the inside of the tent, Steve watches the face next to him contort and twist, acting out the scenarios going on behind still closed eyes.
“Buck,” he whispers, not wanting to startle the other man into waking. He’s done that before without meaning too and it’s never ended well. “Buck,” he repeats, holding himself back.
“...3...2...5...” Steve’s friend whimpers, saying his serial number the way most men say a prayer.
Steve clenches his hand into a fist, keeping himself from reaching an arm out. The urge to pull his friend close, to pull him from the constant nightmares, threatens to overwhelm him, but he pushes it down once more. “Bucky,” Steve tries again, raising his voice slightly. “Bucky, you’re safe, you’re free...”
“...0...3...8...” Bucky continues, facing still contorting. Behind closed lids, eyes shift back and forth, watching scenes play out that Steve can only imagine.
“Dammit, Buck,” grumbles Steve, closing his eyes tight against the sight of his friend in so much pain.
“...B-barnes...S-s-sergeant....B-barnes...”
He can’t help himself. Steve reaches out with the arm he isn’t leaning on and runs the tips of his fingers over his friend’s arm. “Wake up, Buck,” he whispers as he continues to watch Bucky’s face. Another whimper escapes those lips Steve has spent entirely too long staring at in the past and he has to force down the flinch he feels when his chest clenches at the sound.
“P-please...” Bucky continues, no where near close to waking from his nightmare.
Steve’s head hangs as his fingers keep tracing the softest path possible. He tries to keep them light, tries to keep from pulling Bucky away from the dream too fast, knowing he will only cause more harm. “Come back to me, Bucky,” Steve whispers, barely able to hear his own voice.
“P-please...” the other man pleads, voice shaking. “...S-steve...”
At the sound of his own name, Steve raises his head again in a flash. Bucky’s called many things out while dreaming, but he’s never called out for Steve explicitly and Steve feels his heart start to race at the broken sound of it. Knowing it won’t end well, the blonde takes a deep breath and braces himself the best he can while laying in the position he is. He feels a small bit of hesitation as he goes over what he will need to do, but it disappears the moment Bucky cries out once more.
It only takes a moment, only takes the slightest bit of effort, for Steve to really wake his friend up; all it takes is him pressing down further on Bucky’s arm and before he can even blink, there’s an arm flying towards him. Without thinking, he feels his body reacting, reaching out and grabbing the hand that’s clenched into a fist before it can connect with his face.
“Bucky,” he calls as his eyes latch onto the ones that have flown open. “Buck, it’s me, it’s ok,” he says, trying to bring his friend back to him. Wide eyes search his face, looking for something. Bucky’s chest moves rapidly as his breathing picks up and Steve has to fight the urge to try and do more; it won’t do any good. Not yet.
“...Steve...” Bucky finally whispers and the fist Steve is still holding starts to relax. “S-ste-”
The broken sound of his name falling from those lips is all it takes for Steve to allow himself to pull Bucky closer finally. He wraps an arm around his friend as fast as he dares and feels his breath catch when Bucky presses closer, burying his face against his chest.
“I’m right here, Buck,” Steve whispers, holding his friend as tight as he can. Rapid breaths still ghost across his skin along with another sensation he tries not to think about for too long. “You’re safe, you’re safe now...”
Steve looses track of time.
He tries keeping track at first, until Bucky starts shaking. He can hear himself mumbling, feels his thumb tracing gentle patterns across the other’s skin, but nothing else matters after that. He does his best to bring his friend back to him, one minute at a time.
When the shaking finally stops, Steve tries to pull away slightly, only enough to look down at Bucky. “Don’t...” Bucky whispers, words falling off instantly.
“Not going anywhere, Buck,” Steve replies without missing a beat and moves right back to where he was.
Silence falls between them again as Steve starts running his thumb over Bucky’s skin. Time passes slowly and when Bucky does finally start to speak, Steve almost misses it. “I can’t... make them s-stop...”
Steve sighs as he squeezes his friend tighter. He knows instantly what the other is talking about and fights down as much guilt as he can; it’s not about him right now.
“T-they... they wanted to break me...” Bucky continues. “Tried to t-turn me... I was so...”
“I know, Buck,” Steve whispers when the words die off once more.
Part of him still thinks he should have gotten there sooner, should have tried hard to do more faster. Should have spent less time being a salesman and more time trying to get back to his friend. The rational part of his brain reminds him that none of this is his fault, but when a shudder runs through Bucky, Steve pushes that part of him aside once more. “You’re safe now,” he starts again. “I won’t let them take you, ever again.”
Closing his eyes finally, Steve buries his face against the crook of Bucky’s neck, blocking out the world along with his own insecurities. They stay like that until the sun rises, brightening the inside of their tent as the sounds from the rest of camp start to filter in. Bucky is the first to start to pull away and Steve lets him, releasing his hold bit by bit until both men are looking each other in the eye.
They don’t say anything, but they don’t really need to.
The dreams will come again, much as they both wish they won’t, but for now, there’s work that needs to be done.
⁂
“Bucky!”
“Grab my hand!”
“I won’t let you-”
“Bucky!”
The memories of freezing wind whipping his face jolts Steve from sleep. He sits straight up in bed, a train howling along a mountain track somewhere to his right as he fights to catch his breath. Closing his eyes, Steve does his best to push down the flashes of a body falling in front of him, just out of reach of his hand.
His body jolts when a hand lands on his back, fingers splayed against his skin. “Hey,” a voice groggy with sleep whispers, but Steve knows its owner is just as awake as he is. “Hey, you’re here now,” the voice continues as the warm hand rubs his back slowly.
It’s only when Steve focuses on that motion that he realizes he’s shaking.
“You’re safe, back in New Y-”
“Not me I’m worried about,” Steve chokes out, reliving that moment over and over behind his closed eyes.
The bed shifts beneath Steve as the hand on his shoulder turns to an arm wrapping around his chest, pulling him closer. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m here too.”
Steve feels his breath catch in his throat at the words. “Buck-” he chokes out, unable to finish the thought as a chin hooks over his shoulder.
“I know,” Bucky whispers. “Train again?”
“If I had j-just...” Steve starts, immediately fumbling over his words. “I c-could have-”
Bucky bumps his head gently against Steve’s and the blonde feels the world come back into focus a small bit. “I’ve told you,” Bucky starts, his grip on Steve tightening. “There was nothing you could have done, even if you had found me. The words were already there, my mind already wasn’t mine anymore.”
Steve sighs as the words wash over him. It’s the truth, one he’s heard over and over again, but they both know the memories will never leave him. Will never leave either of them. “Buck, I-”
“Shh...” Bucky hushes as he presses his lips softly to Steve’s shoulder.
That simple touch brings Steve down even further and it doesn’t take much more for Bucky to pull him back until they are laying back on the bed once more. Steve knows he won’t be able to fall back asleep, knows that even if he does, the memories will just continue to haunt him, but he allows Bucky to pull him close again anyways. He can’t help the shiver that runs through him when cold metal rests against his skin, but he doesn’t pull away from it.
A soft quiet falls over them, only broken by the sounds of their breathing and the soft clinking of the plates of Bucky’s arm. Steve tries to block the memories out, tries to push it all back down. Thinking about it now won’t do him any good, won’t fix the past or his friend.
“We’re both here,” Bucky whispers. “And that’s good enough for me, Steve.”
“Yeah...” Steve exhales, trying to let himself believe those words, even if just for the rest of the night.