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Bucky woke up sweating, his breathing heavy.
It was just a nightmare, he assured himself. It wasn’t real, none of it was real.
He was still very shaken. This wasn't like his other nightmares, the ones he knew were real. Bucky knew that this one hadn't been real, it couldn't have been, it was impossible that it was real.
There was only one way to find out.
Bucky swung his feet over the edge of the bed and threw the sheets off so he could get up. He slinked silently down the hall out of habit before reminding himself again that he didn’t need to do that.
When he got to the door, he hesitated. He was being foolish, he knew the nightmare wasn't real, he didn't need to wake him up. But all the same, he needed to hear it.
He knocked softly on the door, opening it slowly.
“Steve?” he whispered. “Are you awake?” He heard Steve take a deep breath, transitioning from sleep to wakefulness. “Sorry.”
“It's fine, Buck, really,” Steve said, his voice still thick with sleep. “What do you need?” Bucky rounded the door and closed it when he was in the room.
“I had a nightmare.” Steve's brow furrowed.
Bucky had come to him with nightmares before, but he had never sounded so scared.
“It wasn't your fault, Buck,” he told him.
“It wasn't about that … You were in it.” Bucky shifted where he was standing by the door.
“Oh.” Steve didn't know how to react to that. Same as any other nightmare, he supposed. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“That's why I'm here,” Bucky grumbled. Steve was sitting up now, his feet resting on the floor. He patted the spot next to him and Bucky sat down. “I dreamed that… you were-- it's stupid, it wasn't real.” Steve said nothing and waited for Bucky to tell him. “I dreamed that you were HYDRA,” he finally said in a rush. “And that you had been your whole life. Your mom recruited you when you were a kid and everything you've ever done was just a deep cover mission.” Steve gaped.
“That's a pretty intense nightmare,” Steve whispered. His head was reeling and he felt like he might be sick.
“I know,” Bucky laughed halfheartedly. “After everything my brain is still trying to find ways to make me doubt.”
“Doubt what?”
“That I ever got away from HYDRA.” They sat in silence for awhile.
“You know you did though, don't you? That you got away, that you're free?” Bucky nodded, running his hands through his hair. “And I'm not HYDRA. There's no way I would ever join them willingly.”
“I know,” Bucky said, taking a shaky breath. “But it was so damn real, like my other nightmares that I thought, you know, maybe it was.”
“It's not,” Steve comforted, resting his hand on Bucky's shoulder. “It was just a bad nightmare.” Bucky leaned into his touch. Steve was still reeling, and was almost more shaken than Bucky was.
He wondered what had even triggered that line of thought. Bucky did too.
It didn't make any sense, really. Steve was the epitome of everything that HYDRA wasn't, and could never achieve. His life’s work has been to destroy HYDRA, to turn it to ash and make sure it never, ever comes back. He had nearly died twice to ensure that end. No, it didn't make any sense.
And it never would.
“Steve,” Bucky said softly.
“Yeah, Buck?”
“Can I stay here for the night?”
“Yeah, Buck. You can stay as long as you want.”
“Thanks,” he said as he moved to lie down on the other side of the bed. Steve laid back down next to him. He was just about to fall back asleep when Bucky whispered, “I'm glad you're not HYDRA.”
“Me, too, Buck.”
“About me not being HYDRA or you?” he teased.
“Both,” Steve said earnestly. Bucky hummed.
“Me, too.”