Steve Rogers One Shots

Nightmares

You sit up in your bed, your heart pounding in your ears and the sweat clogging up your vision. The darkness around you seems to press itself against your face, your arms, everywhere.

Hydra was back. At least, in your dream they were. This was no picnic in the park, though.

The chains around your wrists had been pinching against your skin, your comrades being beat down one after the other. Everyone's necks had been snapped easily, Natasha's, Tony's, Clint's. Even Bruce was sprawled across the concrete in human form. The last one was Steve. His sky colored eyes were so empty, his body falling to the ground with a dull thud. You couldn't save him. Or the rest of them. A scream tore out of your throat, searing the skin.

The cry had carried itself out of your dream and into the empty space of your room. The door bursts open and Steve stands there, his hand on the light switch and his very alive eyes searching the room for a threat. When he sees you, he relaxes, his shoulder muscles rolling under his snug shirt.

"Nightmares?"

You nod and swallow, trying to look at ease. When that fails, you run your shivering fingers through your hair and bring your knees up to your chest.

"Can I do anything?"

You nod again. Scooching over, you lift up the bedspread and pat the space next to you. He sits down, shoving his bare feet under the covering and leaning against the wall behind you. Without hesitating, you pull the blanket up to your neck and place your head and a hand on his chest, letting out the stale air you had been holding in your lungs.

"Want to talk?" Steve's hand runs up and down your spine, soothing you as you try to regain normal breathing patterns.

"Hydra. I was tied down. They killed you guys right in front of my eyes. Couldn't do a single thing." You bury your nose down under the blanket and close your eyes, the cold creeping back into your chest.

"Look at me." His free hand pulls your face up and he places his lips to your forehead. "I'm very alive as far as I can see, and so is the rest of the team."

"I know, I know. It just seemed so real." You curl the hand on his chest and swallow hard. His fingers remain on your face and slowly run the hair off of your cheeks and forehead.

"I...what if it actually happens, Steve?  What if I can't save you?"  You look up at him fearfully, biting your lip to cover up the fact that your heart was working a mile a minute.

"You're one of the strongest people I know.  That's never gonna happen."  Steve continues to stroke your cheeks, but your breathing doesn't relax.

He notices you're starting to hyperventilate again, so he buries his nose into your hair and whispers "Listen to my heart beat."

You take his advice and press your ear to his chest, finding the thump of his heart warm and reassuring. You close your eyes and match your breaths to his, the rush of blood in your ears receding. "Thanks."

You lay there with Steve, the soft glow of the desk lamp relaxing you. Steve was okay. You were okay. It was all going to be okay.

You start to drift off, your senses half aware of Steve's chest cushioning your head. The da-dum, da-dum of his heartbeat under your ear matches your own, the heat of his body reassuring you that he was alive.

He shifts under you and you grab a fistful of his shirt in your hand, suddenly fine tuned to everything around. "Steve..."

"It's okay, I'm not going anywhere. Don't worry." He eases himself parallel to the mattress, rolling onto his side and clasping your fist with his own.

"I'll protect you."

"Okay. I...thank you." You loosen your fingers, tangling them with Steve's and nestling your face against them.

When he wraps his arm tightly around your waist, you pull his face down and press your mouth to his. His lips tense up, then relax into your touch. His body flexes into a cocoon, cradling you like a baby in it's crib. When he pulls away, you tuck your head under his chin and smile against his skin. His breaths are hot and husky, his nose buried into your hair.

"Sleep," he whispers, cradling your body against his.

Those nightmares weren't coming back. You were sure of it.