[Stucky One Shots and Drabbles]

Nightmares

Blank.

That's what his mind was.

His mind had very little actively, he hardly had any thoughts that were his own.

Most of the thoughts he did have weren't even his own.

It was their voice in his head, giving him direct orders.

"Don't wake the family."

"Pour the gasoline in a ring outside the house."

"Don't leave evidence."

And like a good soldier, he complied.

He walked around the house, emptying the can of gasoline as he did.

The scent tickled his nose, making him cough.

Immediately, he winced afterwards, expecting to be hit by one of his handlers for making a noise.

Nothing came.

He then remembered that he was alone on this mission, and began pouring the liquid once more.

The thoughts that he'd recently had began to surface.

"You could run."

"Do it. Run away."

He never did. He couldn't.

Outside the facility, he had nothing. Not even an identity.

He reached the front of the home, the ring of gasoline made and the gas can empty, the Asset reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box of matches.

Stepping back a few feet, he struck the match off its own box and tossed it into the dry grass before him.

He walked over to the street where the family's expensive cars were parked along those curb.

He watched as the small flame crawled slowly along the grass, until it found the small pool of gasoline he'd poured.

Then, the once small flame erupted into an enormous one with a roar.

The Solider stood and watched, his dark, lifeless eyes illuminated by the glint of the flame.

The flame began to climb the walls of the home, inviting itself in.

The scent of smoke tinted the cool night air, and the asset decided it was time to go.

He began to walk, no destination in mind, knowing that wherever he went, they would find him.

They would always find him.

*************

Bucky jolted awake and rubbed his eyes, trying to decide if he actually smelled the faint scent of smoke somewhere or if his dream had messed with his head.

He decided on the latter, though his heart continued to pound in his chest.

Bucky looked to his right, where Steve lay sleeping soundly.

His thinking still groggy from sleep, Bucky heard the repeating thoughts in his mind.

They will always find you.

The man sat up and climbed out of the bed, but not before leaning over and running his fingers through Steve's hair and giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.

He left their shared bedroom and began to pace around their
kitchen, which had become a routine for him he had nightmares.

He'd gotten his screaming under control so he didn't wake Steve, but he still would wake up, his mind foggy with memories of the war weapon he used to be, and Bucky never knew what to do with himself when he had those memories.

It was like that after he escaped from Hydra. Bucky didn't have an identity, and he didn't know what to do with himself.

His hands felt empty without a gun in his hands, his mind seemed vacant without a mission, without a life to target.

One day, he'd told this to Steve, and surprisingly enough, his boyfriend understood perfectly.

Steve had nodded sadly, his light blue eyes getting a far away look in them as he said, "I know what it's like. It's like. . . It's like you can't live without a war. "

Bucky didn't understand what the words meant to Steve, how Ultron had spoken them to him and they'd given him a rude awakening to his real personality, the one that would constantly run into battle because he was lost without it.

Bucky didn't understand or know that, but the words stated exactly how he felt, and it made him feel even closer to Steve.

Bucky looked out the kitchen window onto the almost bare streets of Washington DC, which were dimly illuminated by a mix of street lamps and silver moonlight.

He often felt too broken to be with Steve, that Steve deserved someone with better stability, someone who wasn't constantly on the edge of breaking down.

Then he remembered his boyfriend's words to him, and knew that it may be in a completely different way than Bucky Barnes, but Steve Rogers was a broken man as well.

Even if he was saving the whole world while doing it, people had still died whilst he was working to protect him.

Steve knew that he'd tried his best and that his job would never be easy, but Bucky saw up close how Steve would stay awake at night, his mind replaying the innocent people's deaths.

Bucky's mind did the same, except with the people he'd intentionally killed.

But Steve had told him, if even through that simple statement, "You can't live without a war", that in a sense, the two weren't that different.

Bucky walked back to the bedroom, happy to see that Steve was still sleeping soundly on the right side of the bed.

He sat back down on the mattress, which dipped under his weight.

Steve squirmed a bit in his sleep, but his eyes remained closed.

Bucky laid down next to his boyfriend and wrapped his arms around him. He laid his head in the other man's shoulder.

The blonde man lay still for a while before he began whimpering in his sleep, mumbling a spew of incoherent words.

Bucky softly kissed his neck and pulled him closer, full aware that even Captain America had nightmares like himself.

"It's alright, Stevie. " He whispered to his still-sleeping boyfriend. Bucky kissed him again and ran his fingers down his arms, soothing him.

"We'll get through our wars together."