Archive of Our Own ^beta

Bucky hadn't thought he'd be sleeping tonight. It was always harder when you were prisoner, and Faustus' false narratives were buzzing around his head like wasps. Even if he had managed to hold out in the end, he knew he'd come so close.

Eventually he got tired though, and started to drift off despite everything. Probably an after effect of whatever drugs Faustus had used. Bucky had weird dreams before, but when he found himself standing in a world war two era military camp it felt real.

"Buck?"

"Huh?" Bucky jumped at the sound of a voice he never thought he'd hear again. Sure enough, there was Toro, just as Bucky remembered him in the war. Well, a lot more tired looking than Bucky liked to remember. He winced at the bandages around Toro's arm. There was at least an 80% chance those were his fault. Nothing like hallucinogenic lucid dreams to help you come to grips with how fucked up your childhood was.

"I asked if you wanted to play checkers," the faintest hint of concern bled into Toro's voice. 

“Yeah, sure,” Bucky didn’t know what else to say. 

He started mechanically setting up the checkers board. Toro frowned at him from across the ammo box turned table. Shit, was he that easy to read?

“It’s not your fault, you know. Getting captured is part of the job.”

Bucky blinked. Did Toro know? I mean, this was all a figment of his imagination. He was lying on a steel floor in an adamantium straight jacket hallucinating about being in a war zone because that was preferable to his lived reality. Fuck his life.

“I know. I just… I can’t deal with this again. I can’t…,” Bucky blinked as Toro wrapped an arm gently around his shoulders. Had his hands been shaking this whole time? How long had he been crying?

Bucky rubbed the tears out of his eyes. He hated crying in front of Toro. He always wanted to be the strong one, the capable one, the one who could protect his friends.

Great job he’d done with that. At least dream Toro was warm. Bucky had been feeling cold so often lately. Bucky curled into Toro’s side, and wasn’t surprised to feel Toro hug him. Toro was always a hugger.

“I know it sounds stupid, but this will get better.”

“And if the light at the end of the tunnel is a train?”

“You say like I haven't seen you jump onto and off of moving trains without second thought. While people are shooting at you?”

Bucky laughed in spite of himself. It felt surprisingly good. Was that really the first time he’d laughed since 1945? It seemed likely.

“I mean, it looked cool.”

“Damn near gave me a heart attack is what it did.”

“You’re a good friend, you know,” Bucky snuggled deeper into Toro’s side.

“A warm friend, you mean?”

“Well, that too. But seriously, you’re awesome.”

“Um, thanks.”

Bucky’s eyelids felt heavy. Which was weird because he was already asleep. But he liked to believe for a moment he really was safe and warm in Toro’s arms.

“I love you, Toro.”

“Love you too.”

Bucky woke up back in Lukin’s cell. His first instinct was to continue struggling with the straight jacket, but he was surprised when it easily fell off. He looked down at the straps, and found they’d been torn. No, not torn, burned.

A quick glance around the room revealed no further signs of a fire, except that the lock had been melted off the door.