REVIVAL GAME ▹ parker

iv ━━ secrets and lies

There's no even considering it, no moment to even think about it before Bucky is pulling back her blankets just enough to ease inside. He tenses when he feels himself sink into the mattress but carefully gathers her up and pulls her to him all the same.

"Papa, koshmary... " The girl chokes into his bare chest, her tears mixing with his sweat. Papa, the nightmares...

"YA znayu, milaya, YA znayu..." Bucky murmurs into her soft hair, lips kissing the side of her head, "Nothing's gonna hurt you, I'm not goin' anywhere." I know, sweetheart, I know...

Tears slip down her pink cheeks and his thumbs gently brush them aside, his own nightmares still sending shivers down his spine.

"Obeshchat'?" Promise?

"Da, da, obeshchayu. Teper' vozvrashchaysya ko snu." Yes, yes, I promise. Now, back to sleep.

Svet's heavy lashes flutter as she drifts back to sleep, breath slowly evening out once more. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Bucky leans against the headboard to stare at the ceiling where Svet and Natasha painted a blue sky and fluffy white clouds.

It's strangely comforting, despite everything.

Bucky folds both arms around her, cradling her when she burrows deeper into him. He leans down and gently presses his lips into her hair, breathing her in.

She smells soft, sweet like sugar. It's the oddest thing; it's like vanilla and clean sheets and honey. He'll always remember that scent; even though she'd been starved and beaten and raised in a cold dank cell, she still carried that sweet baby smell beneath all that grime and blood.

Innocent until he took that away from her.

The scent takes him back to when everything was simultaneously more difficult and so much easier.

It was just her and him, against the world, stuck under HYDRA. No memories, no family, no wars. Just missions. Just each other.

It was simple, yes, but never easy.

A floorboard creaks and Bucky's head shoots upright, eyes narrowing into the darkness where Natasha hovers in the doorway with one hand on the doorknob and the other with a gun.

It seems Bucky isn't the only one with gut feelings when it comes to Sveta.

The side of his lip quirks upwards, "You sensed it too?"

Her shoulders loosen at the sight of Bucky and Svet in one another's arms but only slightly.

The girl's mother answers with a question of her own, "Is she okay?"

"Another nightmare."

"Migraine?"

"Not tonight."

Natasha exhales a tight breath and nods a little, lips twisted as she stares down at their little girl, a piece of him and her. She leans into the wooden doorway and crosses her arms over her black tank—top covered chest, playing pretend at looking casual. Her green eyes are hard to read, her silhouette sharp against the golden light of the hallway.

Finally, she whispers in that raspy voice of hers, "How about you?"

The way she asks it, the way she's even asking at all, it sets him on edge. He wishes it didn't.

And yet...

Bucky grits his teeth to force out a simple, "I'm fine."

"I can tell." Natasha smirks tiredly, dashing the bangs off her forehead, "You've been having them more and more. You keep shutting it out, it's going to shut you down. I'm speaking from experience."