Just a Dream || Closed
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The nightmare wasn’t a new one. One of several in his repertoire of the deep-rooted things that terrified him when it came to Bucky. Watching him fall from the train was ranked highest on the greatest hits list, followed by being pummeled on the helicarrier while Bucky blamed him for everything that Hydra had done to him. This one was less frequent but just as familiar; the tightening of the metal hand closing around his throat as the Winter Soldier seemed bound and determined to take them both out rather than surrender.
This time though, it changed when the helicopter didn’t topple from the roof. When the hand simply continued to tighten, the sound of the electronics within whirring as Steve’s breathing became labored, throat muscles straining against the choke hold.
It was likely the very real struggle by his body to breathe that woke him, the hazy fog of sleep that usually lingered fading instantly upon realization of what was happening. Steve’s hand moved to wrap around Bucky’s wrist before his mind had fully processed the situation. The other man was straddling him, vibranium fingers wrapped tightly around his throat, incrementally closing more tightly with each passing second.
Steve tried not to struggle. He didn’t want to give Bucky in his dreaming state any reason to fight harder. Instead, he gathered what breath he had left to speak, straining to get the words out as his throat closed. “Buck—-Bucky,” he gasped, staring up at the eyes that seemed to not see him. “Bucky, wake up. You’re dream—-dreaming. Buck—-please!”