Her feet scuffed against the floor, her mind blank as she made her way through the empty halls and towards the comfort of the darkened dining hall. When she arrived, Bucky was inside, sitting with his back against the table as he had been the two previous nights—although this time he was reading a book. When his eyes met hers, he seemed to let out a sigh, but nodded her over.
She walked to the bench across from him, sitting sideways and pulling her knees to her chest, arms wrapping around them to cut away at the chill that didn't seem to want to leave her body.
"You alright?" he asked quietly.
She didn't answer, and he didn't push.
⁂
She kicked off the blanket as if it were the thing that had been choking her. As if it had the power suffocate her.
It wasn't enough.
She stumbled off the bed, landing on her hands and knees and letting the cool floor ground her in the moment.
She wasn't there anymore.
Afternoon light filtered through the window, and she let her body relax, uninterested in climbing back into the unfamiliar plushness of her bed.
⁂
She knew she'd only been asleep for an hour when she woke up. Frustration mixed with anxiety pumped through her and she stood, shaking her hands out to get the nervous energy from her body.
She wondered whether Bucky was awake. Whether he was in the commissary.
Her body seemed to be moving before her mind caught up, and before she even processed, she was stepping through the doorway and into the dark room, letting her mind focus on a now-familiar song that was playing and not the nightmare.