A Strangers Hand

Chapter 7

"No! No! Bucky! Bucky, please! Bucky!" You writhed in your sleep, the screams silenced by your unconscious mind, now echoed through your hotel room.

"Y/N? Y/N, wake up!" You jolted up in a cold sweat, your chest heaving with panic.

"No! Get off! Get off of me!"

"Y/N, stop! It's me, it's Bucky!"

You blinked your eyes, adjusting them to the darkness surrounding you and your breath caught in your throat. You were used to the feeling of waking up in a panic, but what you weren't used to was the sight of Bucky sitting by your side, gripping your shoulders to steady you. "Bucky?" You breathed out shakily, the earlier events of your reunion, crashing back into your mind. Without thinking, you threw your arms around his neck as tears ran down your cheeks.

He wrapped himself around you tightly and spoke in a soothing tone that you hadn't heard in years. "Hey, you're okay. You're safe, Y/N." He rubbed his hand gently up and down your back in an attempt to comfort you, though he didn't quite understand why.

"Was I screaming?" You mumbled into his chest, too embarrassed to look at him. You could feel him nod against your hair and he hummed in response. "Was it just screaming or...or did I say something?

You could hear Bucky's heartbeat quicken at your question. "Uh...some of it was just screams. That's what woke me up... but then, you were screaming for me. You kept repeating my name." You felt his chest rise with a deep breath before he continued. "I kicked in your door because you'd locked it earlier. I found you here still sleeping, gripping the sheets so hard that I could see your knuckles in the dark. I know you're not supposed to wake people up when they're dreaming like that, but I panicked, hearing you scream like that, I thought you were...what was that, Y/N?"

You pulled away from him slowly and recoiled to the headboard of the bed, leaning back against it and tucking your knees to your chest. Your brows pinched together as you fumbled for the right words. "Almost every night since you disappeared, I have had the same dream. It's the war. Sometimes it starts at the beginning when we're still home and happy, sometimes it picks up in the middle of the battle. But, every single night, there is one part that is never left out... watching you die." You felt the tears welling in your eyes again and you tried to blink them away. "It's so real, Bucky. It's like I'm right back in it. I can feel everything. I feel Thanos throwing me back against the trees, I can feel Okoye's spear ripping through me, and I can feel your hand turn to ash against my cheek."

Bucky moved closer to you on the bed. "I'm so sorry, Y/N, I didn't know."

"How could you know?" You said through stifled sobs. "The only people who knew about my nightmares were Nat and Steve; and now they're gone too."

"I'm here now, Y/N. I'm not going anywhere." He reached out to you but you pulled away.

"Aren't you though?" You spoke calmly, but there was a notable edge to your voice. "You said it yourself, Bucky; you're not done being this person and apparently you can't be this and still have me. So please don't feed me bullshit to try and comfort me right now if you don't mean it." Even through the dark, you could see Bucky wince at your words. Part of you regretted coming off so harshly, but you held your ground. "What happened to 'It's you and me', Bucky?"

You watched him as he stood from the bed, taking a step closer to where you were seated against the headboard and gestured to the spot next to you. "May I?" You looked up at him and nodded weakly, moving over slightly to make room for his broad figure. He lowered his body next to yours, nearly matching your posture. He furrowed his brow, making the outer corners of his eyes wrinkle as he nervously rubbed his hands together. "I remember how it felt, you know." He spoke quietly, low enough that had there been any other sound in the room other than your breathing, you may not have heard it.