Dying for some sleep
“Good morning, Tony.” I greeted the man who was already working on some new project. Probably has been since yesterday.
At best.
Tony grumbled something that vaguely resembled a response and continued with the task at hand. I grinned. This was my second week of working with Tony and I actually really liked it. Of course the pay and the hours were better and it was safer than my last job with Hydra (unless Tony did some life-threatening experiment, which I learned he had a habit of).
We both worked for a few more hours before I checked the time and noticed it was time for lunch. I made my way over to Tony to talk him into eating something too.
I had quickly learned that the man would otherwise happily work until I could hear his stomach growling at him from across the room.
We sat in companionable silence before I finally spoke up, “So, Tony, how long have you known Steve?”
“Ehhm, about five years or something. How about you? He never told me.”
I laughed, thinking about how long I’ve known Steve. “I think a little over 2 weeks now.”
Tony snorted in response, “Really? I wouldn’t have guessed that. You seem like you’ve been best friends since childhood.”
“Kinda feels like it too.”
~
Getting home, I plopped myself on the couch, enjoying the silence for a while and letting my thoughts take over.
Work was exhausting, but great. Safe. Sane, for once.
Tony was a cool dude, totally not what I expected him to be, given the magazines all make him look like a hero and the villain at the same time, like he felt like he was above everyone else. He’s really just a nice guy. Pretty down to earth when he’s not trying to build blasters to make him fly.
And he’s a bit of a workaholic, but creates amazing things. Best mechanic I’ve ever seen.
I looked around my apartment. Yeah, it was still shitty, but with my new income I could finally save some money and start thinking about renovating or moving out.
It’s what I learned growing up. If you’ve got money to spare, save it for the bad days. It made sense. My ma lived by it.
But I was a little short on money since Pierce paid me next to nothing that last day I worked for him. Maybe I’d ask Tony for a few days extra work. I could complain about that to Steve.
Then I thought about Steve. Steve was probably in his hotel. What would he be doing? Maybe he’d be bored, or sad, or lonely.
I quickly grabbed my phone and texted Steve.
B. Barnes; ‘Hey, how you doing?’
A few seconds later my phone buzzed.
S. Rogers; ‘Hey, Buck. I’m good. How was work?’
B. Barnes; ‘It was good. How was your day?’ I asked.
S. Rogers; ‘It was a long one.’ Steve responded with. What was that supposed to mean?
B. Barnes; ‘How many hours did it have? Cause mine mostly last about 24 hours.’ I joked back.
S. Rogers; ‘Ha-ha. Very funny. Mine seemed a lot longer.’
B. Barnes; ‘How’s that?’
S. Rogers; ‘I had a few meetings with my former employer. It was very tiring.’
I frowned to myself and tried to recall what Steve’s last job was. I only ever heard him mention the army and how that ended badly or something.
B. Barnes; ‘The army? Wanna talk about it?’
S. Rogers; ‘Yes, the army. And no, maybe some other time. Thanks.’
B. Barnes; ‘Well, are you busy this Thursday? We could hang out maybe?’
Steve responded that he was up for it and we decided we’d meet back at his place. We texted for a few more hours. Don’t ask what it was about, because honestly it was about everything that came to mind. It was a comfortable conversation and I actually caught myself laughing at my phone at every response Steve sent me.
Steve finally decided to be the grown-up and told me to go get some sleep, given it was already one in the morning.
~
Thursday came around pretty quickly and I found myself knocking on Steve’s hotel room door by the end of the morning.
Steve opened the door, looking like he’d just woken up, greeted me, and went back to the kitchen to slurp down his coffee.
I raised an eyebrow but followed him inside quietly.
“So,” I started carefully, “How you feeling?”
Steve held up a finger while he gulped down the rest of the coffee before pouring a new cup and answering, “Great.” He deadpanned.
I snorted. The blond looked like crap and even then he was unfairly handsome. But that was beside the point.
His blond hair was standing in every direction possible and his eyes weren’t even fully open, even though the coffee was slowly starting to kick in. His clothes were a mess and he barely spoke, while he was usually pretty talkative. That last thing alone made it clear something was wrong.
“Sit down, Steve.” I patted the space next to where I sat down and watched, a little amused, at how Steve grabbed the full cup of coffee with both hands, almost making the cup disappear, and saunter over to the couch.
“What’s going on? And don’t tell me you’re alright.”
Steve stared into the brown liquid inside his cup before groaning, “I had a bad night. I couldn’t sleep at all.”
I frowned, “Nightmares?”
Steve nodded before sipping his coffee again.
“Wanna talk about it? Or call Sam? He knows more about this than I do.”
Steve just shook his head, “No, Sam’s at work... And I’m fine.”
I almost scoffed. “Come on, Steve. You look like crap and I’m willin’ to bet you feel like it too.” Then in a softer voice, “Talking does help sometimes. It would’ve helped me when my nightmares were really bad. I understand how it is. Is it okay if I tell you my nightmares first?” I waited for Steve to tell me to either stop or to continue.
After a silence, Steve nodded softly, and I took it as a ‘go on’.
I breathed in before starting, “In my nightmares I’m always me, but different. Like my mind is there, but I can’t control my body. My hands are always grabbing weapons and I keep shooting people. Some I don’t know, some I used to. And there’s always this guy who has a horrifying face, as if the skin just melted off of his skull; it’s just red. Like blood. He’s got this hold on me. Making me listen. Obey his horrifying orders. I can never stop, unless I wake up.” I cleared my throat. It got a little constricted while talking about the nightmares. I had never really talked about them with someone. Not since I left the army, at least.
Steve looked at me, and then back at his hands, which were fumbling with the hem of his shirt. A pained expression on his face. I didn’t like it on his face. A smile would be better.
“D’you wanna tell me yours?” I asked softly.
Steve nodded before sitting up and clearing his throat.