WinterIron one shots

I see you in Nightmares

Word count: 1215

Summary: ' I see you in my nightmares.' He whispers, the familiar face beginning to turn his stomach. He waits for any sign of acknowledgement, he knows what he says in his head, and he waits to see if it was more than just a dream....

' that's because I know who you are. And what you have done.'

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I wrote this in like 30 minutes so.... Enjoy!
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The blonde set him free, he owed him that, but he couldn't find it within himself to follow him back to his home. He knew he owed him his life - pulling him out of the river just didn't seem enough to pay the debt- but he promised himself no more prisons or confinement. And he knew looking at the pleading blue eyes of the boy he would have died helping, he wouldn't be able to help him. It would be better if he left.

He was a soldier before he was the asset, and with both skill sets he could survive on his own. The only problem was the constant fear of closing his eyes. He wasn't allowed to sleep in hydra unless strictly necessary, and now with the freedom to, he feared the horrors would never stop if he dared close his eyes longer than a blink of a second.

He had taken so many lives during his own, some - regrettably - when he was in control of his mind. The war made him a victim? Or was he always a monster, he just needed a bit of guidance to get there? He hates being reminded of it. But that is something he tells himself he needs - otherwise who would remember their deaths? Only he knew what happened to them.

But there was one, a man, who always appeared in his dreams. He doesn't recognise him, and he remembers all of the killings - every scream. Every drop of blood by his own hands. But the face is always expressionless - numb almost. No fear, no anger. He can o ya expect pure pain.

And his eyes will always haunt him. Even when he is awake, with the sun shining down onto the street around him, lighting up the smiling faces of the passers by. It only takes one person, maybe a woman with a laughing child- to make eye contact with him for just a second, and her eyes would mirror his. Empty. Large and tragic.

Swirls of soft hazel illuminated the soulfully deep sadness - something that wouldn't have been necessarily easy to spot if not for the consistency of its presence in his life.

But the worst was what he said.

It was always the same.

He was forced to watch his blue lips move to form the words, accusing him with a knowing tone. The man knew. He knew everything. He would watch as a strand of curly brown hair fell over one eye as they clouded over, and every time a trail of blood would be dripping from his nose, and he would watch as another deep gash appeared on his forehead. He would be frozen in fear as a puddle of the red liquid formed underneath his head, sticking in and soaking his hair.

It always ended when his eyes fell closed.

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A few months later he found the blonde in his apartment.

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He didn't recognise him at first.

Although no one could blame him, he was busy being carted off in an unbreakable cage like an animal. He was preoccupied with his own survival and well being at the time.

But his eyes quickly stole a glance at the man who walked out of the office, talking on the phone - while looking 'Steve' right in the eyes. He didn't think much of it at the time.

But the second time was no excuse.

Despite the whole ordeal in Germany, he didn't see him. Or fight him for that matter. And he wouldn't have known him by name ....

But when he held his gun, cocked and aimed at the door, his heart beating in his chest. ' this is it.' Repeating in his head as e concentrated on keeping his hands steady. With steve in front of him ready to defend and attack as soon as any trouble presented itself, he watched as the door pried open by the red and gold armour.

He should have known as soon as the helmet came down. He should have recognised the painfully expressive eyes on the man then belonged too. Too many emotions present to be able to properly grasp at only one. Those eyes were overflowing with life and character that it seemed impossible to recognise them.

' hey, Manchurian candidate, you're killing me. There's a truce here. Lower your weapon.'

The words snapped him from the defensive stance looking at the two through the scope of the gun. He slowly lower it, finding comfort in the nod Steve gave to him, he didn't have much time to take in the man before him. A messy mop of brown hair sat disheveled on his head, while dark bags hung underneath his eyes. He looked exhausted - and he knew what it was like dealing with Steve. Draining.

——

Tears welled in his eyes as the video played out. He remembered the night clearly, the pain in his mind, travels through his body the night before left him feeling weak. And empty.

'Howard,' he saw tony visibly twitch at his mothers desperate voice.

'Sargent barns?'

The next thing he remembered was the tear that fell freely down his face, causing his vision to blur slightly - but not enough to hide the pure betrayal on Tonys face. Eyes wide, he looked a t Steve, and Bucky could see the lack of guilt for his actions.

" did you know?"

" I didn't know it was him,"

" don't bullshit me Rogers, did you know?"

"Yes"

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Then he saw them.

Empty. Soulless. Endless tragedy and loss present, but fading.

He could do nothing as Steve attacked - to save him. Him! The one who was responsible for Tonys pain in the first place. The reason he was so damaged. And he took every hit.

But he laid there now. Blood dripping from his nose, another deep wound on his forehead adding to the amount on his face, while his hair was soaking in it behind as a puddle formed.

His eyes were glazed over. Empty. Numb.

His lips turning a light shade of blue.

Steve tried to move him from the floor, I go to the other man. Dying. But Bucky needed to know if this was just another nightmare.

He pushed Steve away and crouched down besides the face that haunted him.

'I see you in my nightmares.' He whispers, the familiar face beginning to turn his stomach. He waits for any sign of acknowledgement, he knows what he says in his head, and he waits to see if it was more than just a dream....

His lips would move slowly to form the words ... ' that's because I know who you are. And what you have done.'

Not a word fell from the lips of the lifeless body, slowly freezing inside the shell of the armour. Nothing changed as Bucky shook his shoulders. Nothing - but a strand of curly brown hair that fell in front of his eyes that where now clouded over.