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Most of the time, when he woke from nightmares, he was alone.
In his defense, who was he supposed to reach out to?
Steve was gone, dead, ash in a jar. Natasha was the same. Sam…
Sam was a complicated story.
He had thought Sam hated him, or at least blamed him for the Civil War, but his theory had proved itself false when they fought the flag smashers. Suddenly, casual touches became a normal thing. So did light-hearted teasing, nobody really did that with him anymore, with the whole brainwashed murderer and all.
So, Sam didn’t hate him. Great! But Bucky was still on the fence about whether or not he cared or had some strange promise to Steve.
Back to the point,
Bucky never knew when he was dreaming. That was what made nightmares so scary, the slimmer of doubt that maybe it wasn’t one. Then came the panic.
Steve had once tried to grab his shoulders after a nightmare and had ended up with a broken nose. (It had healed within days, but the guilt lasted for weeks)
But at the same time, it sucked to be alone. It was both better and worse if somebody was there.
”Stop” His voice cracked as he tried to get through to his captors. Steve would save him soon, just like he had saved him all those other times, Steve would come and take him home and they would be safe.
They didn’t stop, more punches and kicks were thrown his way mercilessly, painting his skin with a sickening, sticky, red paint.
His arm hurt like crazy, where was once an arm, was now a stump stopping at his elbow.
He refused to beg. How could he call himself a howling commando if he was begging on the floor to the nazis?
“Stop.” It wasn’t him that spoke this time. He kept his eyes on the ground, counting the splatters of blood that had fallen from his nose. The man spoke some words in another language, it wasn’t German. Bucky knew German.
Before he had time to run through languages in his head, he felt an arm loop around his chest, hoisting him into an upright position.
He struggled, to his credit, kicking out wildly and throwing his head back, hoping the back of his skull might connect with someone’s nose.
”I must admit Sargent Barnes” The voice said again. He only just saw their shoes appear on the ground in front of him when a hand forced his chin upwards. Bucky clenched his jaw, gathering a pool of blood in his mouth. The man was tall, around the same height as Steve was now. He had black, slicked back hair and a strange looking beard.
”I’m impressed.”
Then, Bucky spat out the blood. Straight into the man’s face. They wiped the blood off, seemingly unbothered. Then, they walked out the door they came from.
And Bucky thought that was it.
But then a needle was plunged into his neck.
Bucky woke slowly, blinking the sleep out of his eyes.
”Soldier! So nice of you to join us”
Who was that? Where was he?
”Now, this will hurt” Hands held his head in place, and moments later he felt something buckle across it, restricting his movement “But it’ll be over before you know it”
As soon as the voice stopped, a white, burning pain erupted in his shoulder.
Steve would come, just like last time. Steve would come and save him and they would go back to Brooklyn. Everything would be fine..
“Bucky?”
Someone was screaming, maybe he was. This wasn’t the worst way to die. Sure, he wasn’t dying epically on the battlefield but it was better than being a nazi.
He buckled as the saw cut into his bone.
“Bucky!?”
He was stuck, Steve wasn’t there to save him. It hurt so much. He clenched his teeth as hard as he could before dissolving into sobs, he didn’t have the energy to scream. It got worse, it was never going to stop.
“Bucky, you gotta wake up. You hear me?”
James Buchanan Barnes
James Buchanan Barnes
James Buchanan Barnes-
“Bucky!”
Bucky woke with a start, pushing himself off whatever he was lying on and hiding in the corner, hand outstretched as if that would stop attackers.
”Bucky? It’s Sam, can you hear me?”
Sam. Sam-Sam-Sam. He knew Sam. Did he? He did. You do
”Yeah you do. You’re safe, Buck. It’s okay”
No. No it wasn’t, if it was okay then why couldn’t he breathe? Once he acknowledged his breathlessness, the quick up and down of his chest and the way every part of his body was shaking came next.
Oh God
His breathing picked up even more, leading to him sliding onto the ground. The small breathes he was taking didn’t seem too fond on going into his lungs.
“Buck, you gotta listen to me.”
That sounded like an order, he knew orders. He never wanted to follow the orders but they had never given him a choice. A large shiver racked his body without his permission.
“Shit- Bucky that wasn’t an order. It’s not an order, it’s a request. It’s 2024, I’m Sam Wilson and you’re Bucky Barnes. We’re safe, it’s okay” His tone was soothing, reassuring and pleasingly not Russian.
“Can you hear me?” He asked again. This time, Bucky found the strength to nod. He heard the man sigh in relief and crouch down to Bucky’s level.
”I need you to take deep breathes for me, can you do that?” The man- he had a name. What was his name again? S. S. S. S. S
”S-Sam” He croaked out painfully. Sam was a safe person, someone he could trust.
“There you go, you think you can take some deep breathes for me?”
Bucky nodded and finally lifted his head from where it had sat between his knees. Breathe. Breathing shouldn’t be this hard.
He could less than usual. His heightened senses were being drowned out by a white noise. He felt defenceless with one sense down.
Not down, a voice in his head corrected, you’re just panicking
“Where- where are we?” Bucky’s voice was pityingly small, something he would’ve resented if he was in his right mind.
”A hotel, we fought the flag smashers and by the time we were done it was too late to fly all the way home” Sam replied patiently. Bucky heard him move forward a fraction and then stop himself, as if he was restraining himself from touching him.
”I- okay” He could dwell on the amount of trust he was putting in Sam later, right now, Sam had said to breathe, right?
His breathing had slowed slightly already, and the fogginess and ringing in his ears had subsided a small amount. He sucked in a large breath, going as slowly as he could, only to let it out quickly and have to inhale fast again. It was a vicious cycle, really.
”Take your time, Buck. I’m right here” He heard Sam mutter softly, softer than he had been throughout the entire flag smasher shit-show.
Sam had hated him at the start of all this, though he supposed you don’t invite someone you hate to sleep on your couch.
It took his approximately ten minutes to get his breathing to only a slightly unhealthy pace, but his heart was still racing, mind flooded with the scenes of his nightmare.
“Are you cool with me touching you?” Sam asked, as if it wasn’t a big deal. Because it shouldn’t be- normal people shouldn’t have to be asked that question. Bucky nodded anyway.
Sam moved forward slowly and quietly, his pulse was slightly faster than usual. Bucky fought to keep his guilt controlled, knowing he was the reason that Sam was panicked.
He still tensed when he felt a hand on his shoulder but quickly relaxed. He felt Sam sag in relief beside him.
Sam shifted so they were sitting side by side, Sam’s arm around Bucky’s shoulder. He didn’t comment on the sweat lining Bucky’s brow, or the way his entire figure was still shaking intensely.
Bucky was slowly coming back to himself, and he was grateful for Sam not trying to start a conversation. As he became more and more aware of his surroundings, the more shame crept in. Sure, Sam knew he had nightmares. Bucky had confessed it when they were training, but to have the man coach him through some weird PTSD episode? And the fact that even in his most messed up state, Bucky didn’t immediately attack him? That wasn’t somewhere Bucky was willing to go right now. Or ever. Actually he would be fine if they never spoke about this again.
Sadly, Bucky rarely ever got what he wanted.
Another twenty minutes had gone by when Sam started to speak.
“You feelin’ any better?”
Bucky glowered. “I’m fine, Sam”
Sam raised his free hand in surrender. “Okay you’re fine! Not like you just had a really shitty nightmare and then panic attack, definitely not.”
Bucky grimaced, but still resolved to stay silent. He couldn’t burden Sam with this, not after everything.
“It doesn’t matter, Sam” He said
Hesitantly, he met Sam’s eyes only to be surprised by the pure sadness in them.
“Look. I know this isn’t something you’re used to, but you have people in your corner now. The kids are attached to you, hell I’m attached to your stupid, cyborg ass” He banged their knees together as he said that, which made Bucky laugh quietly. Sam immediately sobered though, “You don’t have to invalidate what you go through just because you think you deserve it.”
Bucky’s breath hitched, he opened his mouth to protest but Sam stopped him.
”Don’t even try and fight with me because I know I’m right.” He sent Bucky a glare at that.
”Now try and get this in your thick skull. You matter. Talking to people doesn’t make you a burden. You don’t have to go out and ‘make amends’ because you didn’t do anything wrong.”
Bucky swallowed the lump in his throat and stared at the ground again. Sam tapped twice on his shoulder.
”Am I getting through to you?”
Bucky sniffed, then, letting out a wet laugh, he replied “Loud and clear, Cap”
Sam chuckled and tightened his grip. Bucky smiled at him.
”Good talk”
There was a small moments silence, in which Sam examined him carefully. Bucky had to give him some credit, he had handled the situation well. Extremely well, judging by the fact that Bucky hadn’t murdered him.
He shuddered at the thought.
”You okay?” Sam asked, leaning forward slightly.
”I think so..” Bucky closed his eyes tightly and rested them on his knees. He felt strange being so vulnerable. So exposed. Especially in front of Sam.
But strangely, it didn’t seem weird. Sam’s presence was comforting, not suffocating.
”You wanna talk?”
Bucky shook his head, because he was drained, and would rather not have another panic attack today thank you very much.
”Just-“ He cut himself off. He didn’t feel like crying either. Sam seemed to get the message. He reached over and changed the one armed hug into a full embrace.
Bucky returned it gratefully, ensuring not to hug too hard and bruise Sam.
“Call me, next time this happens” Sam ordered gently, gently. Gently enough that Bucky registered it as not really an order, just a request said firmly. He nodded