Battle Scars

Chapter 1

Bucky has not been sleeping. Oh, how he wishes he could. But with the dark comes the terrible tightening of his chest, and the memories, the things he can't forget; and with the memories come the nightmares, and the dark circles under his eyes become darker with each sleepless night. He hasn't told anyone in the Avengers Tower yet, though he's sure they've figured it out. He is still recovering, after all. 

The brunet glances at the digital clock on his bedside table, looking up from his book for a second. 1:12 in the morning. There's still eight hours until he can have a reasonable excuse to make coffee. He sighs and returns his attention to his book. A Stephen King novel called Bag of Bones, and very well-read.  The oil lamp on his bedside table is on, the flickering flames casting a comfy glow over most of his room. 

The light can only reach so far, though, and Buck swears that the shadows in the corners of his room are moving; twisting, roiling, reaching out to the brunet to drag him into the depths and never let him out. He slips his bookmark into the book as a shudder rips down his spine. Bucky lets out a whimper, shutting his eyes and pressing the palms of his hands to his forehead. "You're fine, Bucky," he whispers to himself, feeling his chest constrict slightly. "You're safe, remember? They can't hurt you anymore..."

The logical part of his mind knows this. But still the memories come, one right after the other, and Bucky slips off his bed, curling up in the corner of his room where the most light is. He tangles his hands in his hair and shuts his eyes, feeling the tears stream down his cheeks. "Nyet, nyet, pozhaluysta nyet - ne zastavlyay menya delat' eto ," he begs to nobody. No, no, please no, don't make me do it. 

How long the brunet stays curled in the corner before Steve finds him, he doesn't know. How long the blond sits beside him, spewing random nonsense as soothingly as he could to bring the brunet back to himself, he doesn't know either. What he does know is when the panic finally loosens it's hold on Bucky and he can breathe a bit easier, he looks up and sees the blond sitting a few feet from him. Through vision blurred by tears, he recognizes Steve, and launches himself into his best friend's arms, seeking the comfort only Steve could give him. 

Bucky wraps his arms around Steve's waist, clutching the blond tightly as he tries to explain, in a burst of incoherent Russian, what had happened. "Slishkom temno ... teni pytalis' shkvatit' menya. Oni ne ostanoyatsya -  ya ne mogu s etim borot'sya, izvinite..." Too dark... the shadows tried to grab me. They wouldn't stop - I can't fight it I'm sorry...

The blond wraps his arms around Bucky and holds him tight, rocking from side to side while running his fingers through the brunet's hair. "Slow down, Buck," Steve soothes, and it's only then that Bucky realizes he'd been speaking in Russian the whole time.

He wipes the tears off his face as they slow, sniffling, and looks down at his hands. "Sorry - I didn't realize I wasn't speaking English." 

Bucky feels Steve place his hand under his chin and tilt his head up so that the brunet is looking him full in the face. "No need to apologize, Buck. Just slow down and talk to me, okay?" 

The brunet nods, taking a deep, shaky breath, and gets his thoughts in order before he looks back up at Steve. "It was too dark in the corners of my room," he explains, and that is all he says. He hasn't even told Steve about what HYDRA had done to him yet. Nor does he intend to. 

Steve knows this. The two men had been over it before, and so the blond doesn't push it. Instead, he scoots over so he's sitting with his back against the frame of Bucky's bed, and pats the ground next to him. "C'mere." Buck hesitates for a minute. Every fibre of his being wants to crawl over and just plop down with his head in Steve's lap, but his skin is still crawling with the after-effects of the panic attack. So he shakes his head and stays where he is. 

Steve purses his lips but shrugs and lets Bucky stay sitting across from him. "Did you know that in some zoos, cheetahs will be paired with their own therapy dogs to help them overcome their anxiety?" 

Buck looks up at this, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Really?"

Steve nods seriously, looking like he'd just dropped an important statistic about physical health instead of an adorable animal fact. "It's true. I heard about it from Peter." 

The brunet gives a small chuckle at this statement, shaking his head. "That doesn't surprise me in the slightest. Peter is full of information like that." Buck crawls over to Steve and sits beside him, leaning into the blond and resting his head directly over his best friend's heart. Ba-doom, ba-doom.  He closes his eyes and lets out a sigh. His skin has stopped crawling, and now he wants Steve's arms around him again, keeping him safe. 

Bucky feels Steve wrap his arms around him, humming something under his breath. Safe in the arms of the man he loves, Buck's chest finally loosens the rest of the way and for the first time in months, he falls into a dreamless sleep.