Moments in Time

Sleepless Soldier

Bucky stared at the ceiling as his brain buzzed with noise. He hated sleeping because he always dreamed about blank eyes staring up at him, blood coating his hands, or even worse, hurting or killing Steve.

Bucky would go as long as he could without sleep. Sometimes it was three or four days, sometimes he managed a week. His color was that of a zombie, dark bags hung under his eyes and his focus was nonexistent.

Of course, Steve hated it. He always tried to make Bucky take naps or sleep regularly at night, but Bucky just couldn't do it.

Bucky sighed and rolled over in bed. He knew he would be at his breaking point soon and he was not looking forward to it at all. He always worried his nightmares would send him into Winter Soldier mode. He didn't want to hurt people anymore. He didn't want to wake up without any recollection as to what happened. And he especially didn't want to wake up with his hand wrapped around Steve's throat yet again.

Dawn eventually came relieving Bucky of his darkening thoughts. Once he heard Steve rummaging through his closet, he seemed it safe to get a shower and dress. Steve never showered until after his morning work out.

Bucky generally did his work out during the night. It helped keep him awake and Steve didn't get worried about the "excessiveness" Bucky apparently exerted.

Steve's door creaked open and he crept by Bucky's room, obviously hoping not to wake him. Bucky waited an additional five minutes before going to the bathroom.

His shower was a quick ten minute rinse in cool water, followed by a shave, and some fresh clothes for the day. He chose black skinny jeans and a loose grey sweater he stole from Steve because it was slightly too big and extremely soft as well as his black combat boots.

"Morning, Buck," Steve cheerfully greeted him as he scooted out a kitchen chair. "How'd you sleep?"

Bucky caught the way Steve's eyes lingered on his face, tightening as he saw the exhaustion that was impossible to hide. Bucky simply shrugged and accepted the plate of fried eggs, toast, and sausage that Steve offered.

"Coffee?" Bucky requested.

"Yep. Here," Steve smiled, handing Bucky a mug of ridiculously sweetened Java.

Bucky sighed as the warm drink slid down his throat. Caffeine and sugar would definitely help him out.

They ate in familiar silence, happy to be with each other. Sometimes words just got in the way.

"Well, I'm headed out. I have to run by the bank and pick up a few groceries, so I'll be a bit longer. Do you want anything?" Steve informed Bucky, carrying his dishes to the sink.

Steve was careful not to say need since Bucky took the word a bit too seriously. As in, he would die if he didn't have the item requested. Literally.

Bucky thought for a moment before a peculiar expression flitted across his face. It was a cross between a battle hardened warrior being factual, and a kid's sheepish and guilty look after they did something wrong.

"May I have a new toothbrush?"

Steve blinked in surprise. Bucky hardly ever asked for things. Steve had to take initiative and buy him regular clothing otherwise Bucky would have continued to wear Hydra battle gear every day.

"Of course! Was there anything else?"

Steve was glad to be making progress no matter how small. A step forward was a step in the right direction, and he dared anyone to laugh at Bucky's little accomplishments.

"Well...Can...Maybe..."

Bucky seemed to be struggling. It was rare enough for him to ask for bare essentials. Steve had a feeling this was something a bit different.

"Bucky, I have no problems getting anything you want. I have plenty of money and I have fun spoiling you. Please, let me know what I can do."

"I wanted to see if you'd get some plums? You don't have to, but..." Bucky's mouth screwed up helplessly as his eyes darted around the room.

"Anything for you, Buck. Plums are at the top of my list," Steve promised.

~

Bucky didn't mean to. Really, he didn't. But his lack of sleep was catching up to him. He had settled down to watch the news but had fallen asleep instead.

His head was propped up against a cushion while his legs hung over the arm of the couch. One hand rested against the knife strapped to his thigh, and the other bent up and across his face.

Steve returned, but made sure to move as quietly as possible once he saw Bucky's passed out figure sprawled out on the couch. He smirked as a tiny snore drifted from cupid shaped lips and into the kitchen.

He managed to put the groceries away without disturbing the brunet and proceeded to take out his sketch pad and pencil.

Bucky woke up with a start, a familiar scream building in his throat. Sweat was dripping down his face and back and his heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was trying to escape from his body. His breaths were harsh and unsteady and tears burned his eyes.

Steve sauntered into the room with an easy-going smile until he saw Bucky's trembling form and heaving chest. Immediately, Steve was rushing to his friend's side placing a steadying hand on his shoulder as he knelt beside him.

"Buck? What's the matter? Are you okay? What's going on?"

A half sob escaped Bucky's mouth as his tear filled gaze turned to Steve. With a whimper, a metal arm encircled Steve's shoulders, dragging him up until Bucky could bury his head in his shirt.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm sorry!" Bucky pathetically repeated between wounded cries. "I didn't mean to. Steve...please...I can't...I didn't mean to..."

"Shhhh," Steve soothed, firmly embracing the quivering mass in his arms. "It's okay. Everything is okay."

"I didn't mean to hurt you...Steve...Steve!" Bucky was barely breathing through his pain and panic by that point, regardless of Steve's solid body beneath his fingers, his steady heart beat beneath his ear, or the feeling of his long fingers combing through his hair.

"Oh, Buck," Steve sighed, eyes full of love and empathy. "It wasn't your fault. I still love you. It doesn't matter to me because it brought you back."

Bucky's sobs and hiccups finally died down, but he didn't release Steve. Steve didn't mind, but eventually he resituated them so that Bucky was curled into his chest on the couch.

For awhile they both clung to each other like dying men cling to their last hope. Steve mechanically stroked Bucky's rich brown hair, enjoying the feeling. Bucky counted the even beats of Steve's heart glad when he couldn't detect a single flaw. Their legs tangled together, Bucky's hands clutched Steve's shirt as if the man would suddenly disappear otherwise.

After an hour, Bucky nodded off again, lulled to sleep by the melody of Steve's heart and the warmth of his arms. Steve drifted off soon after.

Bucky surprisingly had no nightmares. It seemed Steve could stave them off even while they were both asleep.

Needless to say, Bucky rarely slept alone after that. And maybe there were a few less boundaries between them. Perhaps their fingers brushed bare skin instead of clothing. Maybe their fingers tangled each other's hair for a different reason. And maybe their lips found a sweetness they didn't expect.

But of course, that's all conjecture. Nobody except the two of them will ever know. And nobody will ever understand why Steve's workouts began later, or why Bucky seemed to have a better night's sleep.

It's all hearsay to be honest...