Moments in Time

Warming Up

Bucky gently closed the door to the bathroom, leaning his head against it in exhaustion and defeat. He knew Steve would be at least another hour before his debrief was complete. That gave him time.

Bucky's hand trembled as he began tugging his blood stained clothing off. His lip trembled as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Bruises and cuts littered his skin, but he didn't really mind that very much.

His mind wandered, getting lost in itself. Flashbacks snapped him from place to place confusing him. He staggered against the wall, finding it harder to breathe with each passing moment. Trembling fingers unclasped his tactical gear until there was nothing left.

The cold water from the shower head shocked him back to the present. Dried blood flaked off of his skin, mingling with soap and water. His thoughts quieted, leaving him in a daze.

~

"Bucky!" A voice interrupted Bucky's peace.

Where was he?

What happened?

"God, you're freezing!"

That was Steve...

Warm hands were rubbing at his too-pale skin, trying to encourage his body heat. Worried blue eyes were focused on him, and words were flying from velvety pink lips.

"What happened?" Steve demanded, obviously panicked.

Goosebumps were pebbling Bucky's skin. Shivers attacked him, making him quiver and gasp. Pinpricks made his extremities tingle with tiny shards of pain. Bucky was grateful since it anchored him to the present.

Bucky didn't have any words. He was there physically, but his lips refused to move. A part of him was still missing and he wasn't quite sure where it had gone.

Steve put his large hands on Bucky's face, cradling it gently. Bucky backed against the wall instinctively, shaking his head. Everything slammed into him all at once, the silence he had enjoyed a shattered mess.

The honking of traffic outside, the smell of curry from Nat's apartment, and the sensation of his skin being too tight crashed into Bucky like a tsunami. His lungs were too small, crushed by his ribs, his mind burned and hurt as it sorted through everything at once. His knees gave out, sending him to the floor.

"Bucky!?" Steve shouted.

Bucky suddenly became aware of how cold he was...like he used to be in the cryochamber. His pulse sped up, eyes glistening with tears. He didn't want to go back...he wanted to stay. But he couldn't speak - not with the muzzle on.

Something large, warm, and heavy draped over Bucky, breaking him out of his panic. He vaguely recognized it as his weighted blanket. Steve was hovering, not wanting to make things worse by touching him as he had done earlier, but every molecule in his body screaming to comfort his husband.

"Steve?" Bucky sounded terrified, round eyes quickly overflowing.

"Yes, sweetheart? I'm right here," Steve nodded, crouching right in front of Bucky.

"I don't want to go back..." Bucky whimpered, tugging his hair with his left hand. "Please...don't make me..."

"Buck, you don't have to go. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do ever again. It's okay..." Steve promised, chin trembling as he fought to stay calm.

"Steve...please..." Bucky begged, "Help me."

"Of course, baby. What do you need? Tell me what you want, I'll do anything," Steve instantly agreed, wanting Bucky to stop hurting.