Steve Rogers & Bucky Barnes Imagines

12. Bucky - Not the Lucky Ones Part Three

Just remember that I warned you guys there was angst in this :) I am so sorry. This isn't the last part. And like the others, I'm still kind of iffy about how I wrote this, so I'm probably going to go back and edit.

I'm still accepting requests by the way! The next chapter will be a part two of "This War Isn't Civil", and then after that I think I owe you all some fluffy Steve, yeah? I have been an angst queen these passed few weeks.

Anyway, enjoy!

Nightmares were a common thing for you, especially in the past few years of traumatic experiences. Many of them were memories, of having to put on the yellow star every day, of being taken from your home, being separated from your brothers and father, and eventually from your mother and little sister. 

Then, the ones of not knowing anyone and being scared that today might be the day they send you to the gas chamber. Being relieved when they pulled you out of the camp, only to be taken somewhere almost as bad, that ran experiments on you almost daily. 

Bucky made it better, but even he couldn't stop nightmares. Mainly because before, you two had been separated by cell bars, but this time he had the chance to help you.

"Y/N, doll, wake up," he whispered, shaking you slightly when you started whimpering, your eyes squeezed shut.

Your eyes snapped open after another shake, and you instinctively tucked yourself closer to Bucky, trying to calm your breathing.

"You okay, sweetheart?" He asked quietly, his thumb moving in circles on your hand to try and calm you down.

"I...I just had a bad dream, sorry," you mumbled, leaning your head on his shoulder again, the feeling of being safe returning.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" 

You hesitated, glancing at where a guard was stationed a few cells down. It must have been nighttime, considering he was sleeping on the job.

"It was about my family," you finally stated, "Just a memory, not a very good one."

"You don't talk about them a lot," he mentioned, "Understandably, but still."

"I had a very large family," you murmured, a small smile appearing on your face, "Four brothers and one younger sister. It was nice."

Bucky raised an eyebrow, glancing down at you, "Huh, we aren't that different after all. I have three younger sisters."

"They must have been sad when you left for war."

"Yeah, but they understood why I had to go. To protect them."

"That is...sweet," you replied quietly, before letting out a sigh that told Bucky you had fallen asleep again. Luckily, he didn't have to wake you up from another nightmare.

You were woken up this time by having Bucky literally be ripped from your arms by the guards, and in a rush of adrenaline, you jumped up and grabbed his arms as if to yank him back toward you.

"No," you protested weakly, gripping Bucky's arm as though that would stop them, "Please, please do not hurt him."

"Y/N sweetheart, let go," he said quietly, his eyes warning you. He didn't want you to get hurt because of him. He would never forgive himself.