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 Bucky saw Steve's horrified face as he fell from the train, careening down to certain death. Steve, who'd tried to hard to save him. Yet as he fell, only one thought was in his mind. Thank God it's me faling and not you.

Bucky could hear himself screaming. Could feel fiery hot pain lancing through him. Strong metal clamps held him to a table, and he jerked against them with all his strength. Something was wrong, something felt off. He glanced to where his left arm should have been, only it wasn't there. In it's place was a bloody stump, and someone was attacking something mechanical to it. Where it touched Bucky felt a hot burning sensation. He screamed again, calling out for Steve. For his best friend, the one who he could always count on. But Steve never came for him.

Bucky was on a bridge, and there was a man standing across from him. A tall man with light hair and broken eyes. The man looked at Bucky, looked at him, and said one word "Bucky?"

Bucky was standing on a collapsing hellicarrier, shooting at a man with light hair and a familiar face. Except Bucky couldn't place the face, couldn't remember where he'd seen it. All he knew was that the man was refusing to fight him. But he had his orders, the man had to die.

Bucky's eyes shot open, and he sat up gasping, his hands gripping fistfuls of the bedspread. He was sweating, a cold sweat that came from nightmares. Bucky remembered that day on the bridge, when he'd nearly killed his best friend.

"But you didn't kill him Buck. You pulled him out of the water."

Turning to the soft of sound of Willow's voice, Bucky stared into her blue eyes. They were glowing slightly in the dark room. She must have picked up on Bucky's nightmare, on the river of guilt that followed. Bucky took a shaky breath, "I didn't mean for you to see that. To wake you up."

"It's alright, I don't mind." Willow's voice was soft, soothing, and sure. She was a constant calm force. She struggled for a moment to sit up straighter, shoving a pillow behind her back. "I only saw the end bit anyway."

Willow reached a hand out toward Bucky, and began to run her fingers through his hair. Her calloused fingers started at the nape of his neck and brushing his hair forward, completely mussing it. Bucky didn't mind, it was calming. Something Willow did when Bucky was stressed or waking up from a particularly crappy dream.

"It's been a while since you've had a nightmare like that. Hasn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Steve doesn't blame you Bucky. No one does."

"I know."

Willow stopped running her fingers through his hair, Bucky caught her hand and kissed the back gently. "I love you."

"I love you too. Go back to sleep Bucky." Willow laid back against Bucky, snuggling up against him. "They're just bad dreams now. No one's going to hurt you ever again."

She yawned, her blue eyes closing. Willow trusted Bucky so completely, so without reserve, with all the things he'd done, that even after years of being with her, it still made Bucky's heart full to bursting.

Bucky didn't want to go back to sleep, he wanted to freeze this moment forever. Willow curled up safely against, their dogs Sirius and Lael curled up at the foot of the bed. This peaceful life was all he had ever wanted, especially after a life of chaos.  

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