I've Got You
Bucky stared at the ceiling for hours. Like, actual, literal hours before he sat and up and huffed a sigh of frustration, "FRIDAY, is anyone else up?"
"Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner are in the 6th level lab, and Mr. Parker is in the gym," The AI responded cheerfully.
Knowing Peter had changed Bucky. It had made him kinder, more caring, and less afraid of himself. Peter had changed him. He knew this because his first thought was, What is Peter doing up at this hour? Bucky threw on a sweatshirt and padded downstairs to the gym.
He stopped in the doorway and took a minute to study the scene in front of him. A blanket lay at the edge of the gym, forgotten. Bucky recognized it from Peter's bed. Only the light in the corner was on. Peter was punching one of Steve's reinforced bags. Tear tracks glistened in the light and it sounded like he was having a hard time breathing. Slowly, but loudly enough to make sure Peter heard him, Bucky approached.
Peter hesitated when he heard Bucky approach, but didn't stop. Right before he threw another punch, Bucky caught his hand gently. Peter didn't pull away, but straightened up and stared at his hand in Buckys. He hadn't wrapped his knuckles and it showed. There were shallow, open cuts on each of his knuckles. Bucky looked at them and shook his head, "You and Steve are always forgetting to wrap your hands. You're going to hurt yourself." Bucky released his hand and walked over to the first aid kit on the wall. Peter simply watched.
"Why are you down here?" He asked hesitantly.
Bucky motioned for Peter to sit on the bench, "Why are you?"
Peter raised an eyebrow, "I asked you first."
Bucky chuckled as he pulled out an alcohol wipe and sat next to Peter, "Fair enough. Couldn't sleep. What about you?"
Peter hissed as Bucky wiped at his knuckles. Bucky muttered an apology as Peter continued, "I had another nightmare." He admitted sheepishly. He looked at the ground, refusing to meet Bucky's eyes. His cheeks were flushed pink, a sharp contrast to the dark circles under his eyes.
Bucky watched as Peter's body language shifted from calm to nervous and anxious. He was hunched over and his breathing was still sharp and irregular, "Have you used your inhaler today?"
Peter shook his head, "Didn't need it."
Bucky chuckled as he pulled a spare one from the drawer, "Like hell, kid." He tossed the inhaler to Peter, who caught it, rolled his eyes, but held it to his mouth. After a few moments, his breathing deepened to a regular interval.
Bucky watched as Peter leaned against the wall and stared at the large skylight, watching the stars. For just a moment, Peter looked young. He really looked like a teenager, "You know, that's the 3rd time this week, Pete. Maybe we need to talk to someone about this."
Peter nodded, "I know."
They sat and gazed out at the stars for a while until Peter yawned and leaned against Bucky's shoulder, "I'm so tired," He started, "But I can't sleep. I know what's going to happen if I sleep. I'm going to wake up in a cold sweat, where I can't breathe or move or see. And I want to sleep," Peter's voice broke, "but I just can't."
Bucky shifted and held Peter close as he started to cry exhaustedly, "It's okay, kid, I've got you. You're alright." Bucky said, carding a metal hand through Peter's soft curls, "You can sleep. You can sleep because I'm right here. I'm going to protect you and I'm not going anywhere. I promise."
Peter sobbed into Bucky's sweatshirt and buried his face in Bucky's shoulder. Gently, Bucky hoisted Peter up on his hip, then grabbed the blanket and headed upstairs. Peter's crying didn't cease until long after Bucky had laid down on the couch with the teenager still latched on to him. Bucky rubbed Peter's back and comforted him until Peter lifted his head and wiped the last few tears away.
"You feel better?" Bucky asked gently. Peter nodded but still cuddled close to Bucky, "Go to sleep, kid. I've got you."
Bucky tucked the blanket around Peter and lightly kissed the top of his head, "I've got you."